


Twice Upon a Time

by TsaritsaElena



Series: Twice Upon a Time [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Daddy Issues, Established Relationship, Family, Family Issues, Fix-It, Gen, M/M, Second Chances, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-31 07:18:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 70,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1028834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TsaritsaElena/pseuds/TsaritsaElena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark has never had an easy relationship with his father, but when Howard Stark circa 1983 time travels to the future in a freak accident, things get even more complicated, especially since Tony is dating his dad’s idol, Captain America, and Howard doesn’t know. As they work toward a solution that will restore Howard to his own timeline, will Tony get a second chance at a father-son relationship with his dad, or is he in for more of the same unforgiving treatment from Howard? Time travel, Avengers missions, and a secret project of Howard’s: things at Stark Tower are about to get a little crazy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is for the Marvel Big Bang Challenge. I’d like to say thank you to [d_violetta](http://d-violetta.livejournal.com/) and [melpemone](http://melpemone.livejournal.com/) for beta reading this fic. There is (supposed to be) an accompanying fan work for this. I'll edit this space when I have a link.
> 
>  **Warnings for:** Verbal child abuse (on screen), discussions/mentions of physical child abuse (Howard) and of child neglect (Tony), a very brief mention of period-specific homophobia, accidental forced coming out, Avengers mission-related violence, and slightly intoxicated piloting of the Iron Man suit.
> 
>  **Spoilers for:** The identity of the Winter Soldier, if you’re unfamiliar with this character.
> 
>  **A Note on Howard Stark:** If you’re upset with the characterization of Howard, please read the “Credits” chapter for an explanation before writing me any angry comments. ;)
> 
>  **A Note on Canon:** This fic is canon-compliant up to _Iron Man 3_. It is not canon-compliant with _Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D._ or _Thor: The Dark World_.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I don’t own any of these characters or copyrighted material, and I’m certainly not making any money or other material profit off of this fanfiction. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Okay, that’s it! On to the fic!

“That was... not the result I was hoping for.” Bruce frowned, double-checking his readout.

“Are you sure you’re picking up the right signature? If you recalibrate the ICP spectrometer for the second isotope—”

Tony was interrupted by a loud _BANG!_ and a thick cloud of smoke that permeated the room. He and Bruce both coughed loudly, covering their faces. Bruce tried to clear the air ineffectually by waving his hands until Tony turned on the high-powered vacuum system hidden in the ceiling—this was a laboratory after all.

Once the smoke cleared, Tony and Bruce found that they had one more person in the lab than they started with, and he was sprawled on the ground at the center of the explosion.

He couldn’t believe it. For one of the few moments in his life, Tony Stark was speechless. His own father appeared in front of him, coughing and trying to brush off the dust on his lab coat as he stood up. Tony cleared his throat and opened his mouth to say something—anything—when the door burst open behind him.

“What’s the situation? We heard a bigger-than-usual explosion coming from in here,” said Natasha, striding confidently into the room and suited up for a mission. Clint was immediately behind her, bow in hand and quiver strapped to his back, on full alert.

She stopped in her tracks when she saw who Tony and Bruce were gaping at. Tony knew she’d seen the SHIELD file on Howard Stark, complete with pictures. She knew exactly what his dad looked like in his mid-sixties. “Well, this is unexpected.”

“You’re telling me,” said Bruce.

“I’d like to know what’s going on,” Clint said, trying to maneuver himself between his teammates and the intruder.

There were only a few explanations for this, and Tony had a feeling he knew what this one was. “Time travel,” he croaked weakly, unable to get much more out.

It was then that Steve marched through the lab doors, all suited up except the cowl and blindly asking, “Is everyone alright in here? I contacted Thor, he’s on his way.”

Upon seeing the visitor, Cap, too, stopped in his tracks. It took him a moment, the stranger’s face more lined and world-weary with age, but there was no way he could mistake that face.

He made to speak, but their inter-temporal trespasser beat him to the punch. “S-Steve? Steve _Rogers_ , is that you?”

“Howard?” Steve cried, a look of wonder breaking across his face. He stepped forward quickly and embraced Howard without hesitation, who returned the gesture easily, patting Steve on the back.

“I thought you were dead, pal.”

“I thought you were dead, too,” Steve returned with a friendly jibe.

It was then that Tony regained his senses and knew he needed to get out of there. A time-travelling father? It was kind of terrifying. It made him want to find Pepper and stave off the incipient panic—what if Howard took the company and all he had built away from him? More than anything, he need time to deal with how _chummy_ Steve and his dad were, just minutes after Howard’s arrival.

Tony piped up from the wall he found himself against, interrupting the moment abruptly so that Steve and Howard jerked apart. “Well, it’s been fun, gotta go talk to Pepper! Cap, you’re in charge of babysitting until I get back. All of _you_ ,” he pointed at the team, “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do and don’t tell him _anything_ , especially nothing about himself _or his family_. Got it?” They had better get it—this was not a conversation he was ready for. “And the internet is off-limits until I can set the permission protocols to ‘things that won’t fuck up the space-time continuum.’ Seriously, don’t even try it.” Walking out quickly, he called over his shoulder, “And find out what year he’s from, will you?”

“It’s October, 1983!” Howard shouted to his retreating back, but Tony didn’t hear it, the automatic doors sliding closed and his form already retreating down the hallway.

 

Tony’s heart was racing as he took the elevator down to Pepper’s office. He strolled past the receptionist’s desk, easily blocked out her protests of “Ms. Potts is taking a call, Mr. Stark!” and made a note to have her fired because seriously? He was the _Chairman_ of Stark Industries and he could interrupt his CEO any time he wanted. (Pepper was downright scary when he interrupted her in the middle of something important so he usually didn’t, but this was an emergency so he figured she wouldn’t be too upset if he barged in.)

Which he promptly did, throwing open the door to Pepper’s office to find her on the phone with a serious look on her face. He sat down at her desk and reached for the switch hook at the same time she grabbed the phone and held it close to her, silently glaring at Tony.

“Uh huh. That’s great, thank you. I’m running late to another meeting but I’ll be in touch with you soon. Send me the marketing designs by tomorrow.” She put the receiver on the hook and before she could even _ask_ what was wrong, Tony was out of the gate.

“My father, yes _my father_ is downstairs in _my lab_ with _my Avengers_ and _my Steve_ , Pepper! Time travel— obviously—and I’m sure as hell sending him back to where he came from. But until I do, he’s not running my company, Pepper! Just because he’s from a time where he’s the head of Stark Industries doesn’t mean he can _waltz_ in and take this from me. ...Right?” Tony looked at her expectantly. “Anyway, that’s why I’m here. I need you to call legal and find out because—”

Pepper, who hadn’t been able to get so much as a word in edge-wise, picked up the phone again and dialed a number, taking care to hold the phone in her lap, lest Tony make another grab for the switch hook.

As it was, he was already protesting, “—I won’t have it! He doesn’t get to stroll in like time travel is perfectly normal—”

“Hi Natasha, it’s Pepper. Tony’s here and I know this sounds crazy but he’s claiming that there’s been a time traveling incident and—”

“—and take over my company! Stark Industries is a _clean_ energy—”

“Oh, you already know about it? Well, I’m calling to ask if SHIELD has dealt with these kinds of things—”

“—advanced robotics tech company, not a military weapons factory—”

“You are? Perfect, thank you so much Agent Romanoff. Call me when you hear something.”

“—and I won’t have him destroying what _I_ built! You’re not even listening to me, Pepper!”

She hung up the phone with more force than she intended and turned toward him. “I’m listening, Tony. You’re not going to let your time-traveling father take over Stark Industries just because he used to own it.” She paused, scrubbed her face with her hands, and then blurted, “You know this is crazy, right? Time travel? I mean, alien invasions are one thing, but time travel? Really? I’m not even sure—”

Tony handed over his phone, which showed a live video feed of the lab upstairs and one very alive Howard Stark. Her reaction could only be described as pure shock to see SI’s former CEO on screen, alive and well. “Oh,” was all she could think to say. Well, this could complicate things.

“He can’t take this away from me,” Tony said, more emotion in his voice than he wanted to have. He felt smaller than he had in a long time, smaller than he’d felt in years. He hadn’t felt this way since his father was alive and he hated it. Quietly, he said, “It’s my company, it’s my money, it’s my _life,_ Pepper.”

“And he’s not going to have it, Tony,” she said warmly. She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I spoke to Agent Romanoff. She’s going to have someone look through the legal documents to prepare a watertight case. But Tony, slow down and think about this for a minute. Howard Stark’s death certificate is on record, and the company transferred to you after that. How do you think he’s going to be able to explain away a death certificate without any assets or identification to his name?”

Hunched over in his chair, Tony rubbed his face, letting a deep breath in and out. “I just... I hate feeling like this.” _Helpless. Powerless,_ he thought privately, though he suspected Pepper knew anyway.

The look he gave Pepper was one that she rarely saw. In that moment, it wasn’t Iron Man who sat in front of her, or Tony Stark the confident asshole who blew off meetings when he felt like it, or even Tony Stark her friend. It was the look of a child, lost and uneasy, not knowing what to do. She could count on one hand the number of times she’d seen that look on him, and it broke her heart to see it now. Going around to the other side of the desk, she wrapped her arms around him protectively.

“You’re not helpless and you’re not powerless. You’ve got the Avengers on your side, you’ve got Steve on your side, and you’ve got me. I _promise_ you, Tony, nothing’s going to happen. I won’t let it.”

“Thanks, Pepper,” he said in a rare moment of complete sincerity, no joking, no sarcasm, no glib. After half a minute went by, he mumbled, “Do you have any work for me to do?”

Pepper couldn’t help it—her eyebrows raised all on their own. It had to be pretty serious if Tony was willing to do _paperwork_ to forestall seeing his dad. Well, she was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth; she had plenty of things he needed to do.

“How do you feel about a product design meeting?” Pepper stepped back and plucked a folder from her desk, presumably one with notes for the meeting.

“The one for the whatsamathingy?” he twirled his finger, trying to think of the name of the device.

“The one you were supposed to go to but weaseled out of and made me go instead? Yeah, that one.”

Tony sighed but didn’t put up a fight. Pepper was surprised. Having his time-traveling father show up must really be eating at him. Taking pity on him she said, “If you’re good and you pay attention, I won’t make you come to the marketing meeting tomorrow.” Tony perked up a little at that as Pepper started walking toward the door. “Come on. It starts in five minutes and I don’t want to be late.”

 

Tony did behave at the meeting and hey, he even paid attention for half of it, which was a good thing too, because he caught a huge mistake in the engineering calculations that meant the size of the robotic rescue equipment was way too small to handle the designated power inputs. Luckily, it was an error easily corrected, so he shooed the design team out and sent them back to R&D to fix their giant mistake, cutting the meeting short. Pepper was pleased because it meant she got him to sign paperwork for a whole half an hour before he claimed his hand was cramping up.

Putting down the pen and leaning back in the chair, Tony looked at her with a resigned face. “Do I have to go back up there?”

“You do, Tony,” she nodded. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“I—No. I think this is something I need to do for myself.”

“Okay. If you’re sure. I’ll come up later after work, okay?” she promised and he nodded.

Tony took the elevator back up to the lab. As the automatic doors slid open, all eyes turned to him. Director Fury and Agent Hill were there, evidently not pleased by the look on Fury’s face, along with Agent Coulson, the other Avengers, and one Howard Stark.

Tony pointed at Fury and Hill. “Excuse me, why are you two in my tower? Do you have a badge on? My head of security isn’t going to be happy if you don’t have a badge on. Coulson, why are they in my tower?” Coulson ignored him.

Fury crossed his arms, unamused as ever. “We’ve been waiting for you. You’re late, Iron Man!”

“Am I?” Tony said, feigning ignorance. “Next time, call the office to come get me.”

“I _did_. They said you were in a very ‘important’ meeting and the doors conveniently malfunctioned every time I left to retrieve you,” Agent Hill sniped with growing impatience.

Tony sent a silent _thank you_ to JARVIS and mentally vowed to do the upgrade on his system he’d been putting off, as soon as he could. He said innocently, “Huh. That’s weird. JARVIS, schedule a time for me to look into the automatic sensor interface later.”

“Duly noted, sir,” said a disembodied voice.

“Jarvis?” Howard looked up, trying to find the source of the voice. “Edwin Jarvis?”

“Unfortunately, I am not he, Mr. Stark,” said the AI program. “Your former butler, Edwin Jarvis, is deceased. I am ‘Just a Rather Very Intelligent System,’ or JARVIS for short.”

“JARVIS. Huh. Now why would I name an artificial intelligence system after Jarvis?” Howard mused to himself.

“Actually, Mr. Stark—”

“Mute,” Tony said, and the system went perfectly silent.

All eyes were on him and it was then that Howard got a good look at him. A _really_ good look. His eyes went wide. “ _Tony_?”

“Hi Dad,” he said with a grimace and a quirk of his eyebrows.

“Jeeze. I’ve been stuck in here for an hour and they wouldn’t tell me who you were, not even Steve. Said I’d have to ask you myself.”

“Well, now you know, so let’s get this show on the road.So what’s the plan?”

“The _plan,_ Mr. Stark,” said Fury, “is for you, Dr. Banner, and Howard to work on a time machine, so we can get one of the best minds SHIELD has back to the _right_ time and he can continue his work.”

Tony exchanged looks with Bruce, wanting to know what had happened in his absence. Bruce gave him his best ‘ _Tell you later_ ,’ grimace, and Tony turned back to Director Fury.

“Oh no no no. Build a time machine with _Bruce_? Sure. But I’m not working with him.” Tony pointed a finger at Howard, who looked appropriately affronted.

“This project will need more than two people, Mr. Stark,” said Agent Hill. “And as much as I hate to feed your ego, there are only a handful of people on the planet who have the knowledge to work on this with you—Dr. Banner being one of them and Special Director Stark being another.”

_Special Director_ Stark? He knew his dad founded SHIELD, but Special Director? Just how involved was he in SHIELD? Feeling desperation rise, Tony asked, “What about Erik Selvig? Why can’t he work on this instead?”

“Dr. Selvig is on a leave of absence from SHIELD. He’s teaching classes in Graz and unable to devote the necessary time and effort to the project.”

Tony ran through the mental list of other candidates, ticking off names as he went. He’d pissed off Michio Kaku the last time they were at a function together—not one of his finest moves; he was going to have to fix that soon. Hawking and Tyson were both out, too busy with their own projects. Reed Richards would probably cause him as much grief as his father in other unpleasant ways, and Bruce was already on the team. He sighed, annoyed but resigned to the idea as much as he hated it.

Coulson picked up where Hill left off. “Howard Stark was— _is_ —one of the best engineering minds at SHIELD. Dr. Banner has offered to suspend his research to focus on this project, and Special Director Stark will be alternating his efforts between this time machine and continuing the 1983 project he was working on for SHIELD. You will be doing the same, Mr. Stark. In other words, figuring out how to return Special Director Stark to the proper time, when not busy with your own work for Stark Industries or the Avengers.”

“And what about everyone else?” Tony asked.

Agent Hill said, “Captain Rogers and Thor will bring Special Director Stark up to speed on operating modern technology—”

“Babysitting. Gotcha.”

“—and Agents Barton and Romanoff will remain on standby.”

“Thumb-twiddling. Gotcha.”

Ignoring this, the SHIELD team moved to leave. Fury said, “You’ve made a lot of work for us, Howard, but I’ll be in touch. Have Captain Rogers bring you down to the Triskelion tomorrow morning for a proper debrief.” Howard nodded once, businesslike. Satisfied, the director and his agents saw themselves out.

With that over and done with, Tony was at a loss for what to do. All eyes were on him; Natasha, Clint, Bruce, Thor, and Steve. And Howard. He looked away, ignoring Howard. He did not want to talk to his father right now. Or ever. Or even be in the same room as him. Automatically and unbidden, he turned toward Steve, his mouth half open and his breath hitched, struggling to say something, _anything_ to relieve the tension in the room, but nothing would come out.

“Alright team,” Steve said seriously, straightening up and stepping into his Captain America persona. “Clear out. Tony and Bruce are gonna need space to work on this.”

As Thor, Clint and Natasha filed out, Howard stayed behind. “Don’t I get to talk to my own son, first?” he protested, looking back and forth between Tony and Steve, like he wasn’t sure that either of them were real.

“Nope.” Steve said it genially. He clapped a hand on Howard’s shoulder and gently guided him toward the door. “Science first, twenty questions later.” As he walked by, he mouthed to Tony, _‘We’ll talk later_.’ Aloud, he said, “Besides, I can’t wait to catch you up on all the baseball you missed.”

“You know I don’t even _like_ baseball, Steve,” Howard countered.

“No, but I do.” Howard laughed and so did Steve, the sound trailing after them through the corridor.

Tony watched them leave until they were out of earshot.

“So. That’s your dad,” said Bruce. “I’ll listen, if you want to talk about it.”

“Thanks, I’m good,” Tony said gently, but gratefully. There was no question in Tony’s mind that Howard Stark had been a shitty father, but he paled in comparison to Bruce’s dad. He appreciated the gesture from Bruce, but going on about his own daddy issues would have made him feel like an asshole. “Just a warning for you: he’s going to be a pain in the ass to work with and will probably criticize everything you say.”

Bruce snorted softly. “Good to know.”

“I take it Steve, Fury, and the rest of them got the whole story out of Dad while I was out?” Tony asked.

 “Yeah. He said—”

Tony waved a hand, cutting Bruce off. “JARVIS, play the video and audio feeds in this room from the last hour and a half.”

Immediately the feed was brought up on the nearest console and Tony settled himself on a stool, with Bruce watching next to him.

_“Well, it’s been fun, gotta go talk to Pepper! Cap, you’re in charge of babysitting until I get back._ ”

Tony watched himself onscreen as he babbled nervously about proper procedure for time-travelers and then swiftly exited.

_They all watched Tony practically run out of the room. Once the doors closed, Howard asked, “Who was that?”_

_“He’s a mechanic,” Natasha was the first to say, with a quick warning glance at her teammates that nobody had better contradict her. “He’ll tell you more about himself when he gets back. Right now, we should get Fury.”_

_Peerirg closer at the SHIELD logo on Natasha and Clint’s uniforms, Howard perked up. “Fury? Like Nick Fury? Is he running SHIELD now?”_

_While Clint stepped away to make the call to Fury, Steve nodded in response to Howard’s question._

_“And let me guess, you’re working for him.”_

_“We all are. SHIELD special forces team. It’s complicated.”_

_There was a pause, Howard finally getting a good look around the room, before bursting out with, “Can anyone explain where, and_ when _I am, exactly, and why all of this equipment says Stark Industries on it? Are we at one of my R &D facilities?_

_“...It’s 2013.” Bruce said reluctantly._

_“2013?” Howard repeated incredulously, eyes so wide they were comical. He swallowed thickly, “I don’t suppose I’m still alive at the ripe old age of 96?”_

_The guilty look on Bruce’s face was enough of an answer, even before he shook his head. He continued explaining, “ You’re in New York. And this is Stark Tower.”_

_“Stark_ Tower? _” Howard said, now realizing from the windows how high up they must be. “Where I’m from, I only have the townhouse on Madison Avenue. When do I build Stark Tower?”_

_Steve cut in before anyone else could. “Alright, no more questions about the future until our..._ mechanic _... gets back. We don’t want to reveal any information that could change the past.”_

_“Fury, Hill, and Coulson are on their way,” Clint announced. “ETA ten minutes.”_

_“Good,” Steve nodded. To Howard, he said, “When they get here, you can tell us how you got to 2013 and how we’re gonna find a way to send you back.”_

_“I don’t suppose you’ve figured out time travel by 2013?” Howard joked._

_“No, not yet,” said Bruce with a wry grin, “but I’m up for the challenge.” Realizing he hadn’t introduced himself yet, he stepped forward to shake Howard’s hand. “Bruce Banner.”_

_“Howard Stark,” came the reply with a firm handshake._

_“Dr. Banner is our resident scientist,” Steve added. “This is his primary lab.”_

_“What sort of research are you working on?” asked Howard._

_Bruce looked chagrined, though he answered truthfully. “I’m a nuclear physicist by training, but mostly I do research on Gamma radiation and its effects on cellular biology.”_

_Howard nodded, suitably impressed._

_“This is Agent Barton and Agent Romanoff,” Steve continued, introducing them in turn. They gave Howard a wary handshake each._

_“SHIELD operatives, I take it?” Howard asked, if only for confirmation. They nodded._

_Suddenly, another figure burst through the doors, voice booming. “My fellow warriors! Upon hearing your distress call, I have returned to aid you on this fine day! What grave threat faces the new city of York?”_

_“No grave threat,” Clint explained with calculated casualness, “Just a time-travelling mishap. Heard an explosion from about ten floors down so we called as a precautionary measure.”_

_“Thor,” Natasha stepped in, “This is Howard Stark, from 1983. We’re waiting until Director Fury and Iron Man to get here to tell him more about the future, especially anything having to do with his personal relationships.” She shot him a look so scary that Thor immediately choked back whatever he had been about to say about Tony._

Tony fast-fowarded the footage. It didn’t take long for Fury, Hill, and Coulson to get there, and for Agent Hill to attempt to leave the room multiple times to find Tony. Despite the fact that it would have been hilarious to watch, he just wanted to get to the part where Howard explained what the hell had _brought_ him here. He fast-forwarded through the next hour, which was mostly of Bruce running tests on Howard’s DNA to confirm his identity with SHIELD’s records.

“Here,” Bruce said. “This is when we started talking about the time travel.”

Tony pressed play, watching the scene unfold.

_“—ow did you get here?” Steve finally asked._

_“I was in my lab at home, working on a project for Director Carter at the insistence of Deputy Director Fury,” Howard turned to Fury, addressing him with a note of annoyance, “I’m sure you remember the Soviet ghosts you had me chasing on hunch of yours.” He turned back to the group, “When some half-wit junior agent from SHIELD delivered a box of these... crystals. SHIELD’s  report said the initial energy readings were similar to the Tesseract, and since I’m the most qualified person to speak on that subject, SHIELD thought I could investigate for them, which I do not take kindly to as another imposition on my time, Nick,” he rounded on Fury again. “I have enough on my plate between running Stark Industries, working on my other SHIELD projects, and taking care of my family, thank you very much!”_

Tony snorted. Howard _never_ had time for him or his mother. Who was he kidding? But Howard continued, “ _After I dismissed the agent, I decided to examine the crystals first. So I picked one up, and—”_

_“Wait a minute,” Bruce interrupted, “you just picked one up? No gloves, no equipment, and you knew it had readings similar to the Tesseract?”_

_“The crystals were not glowing! They looked perfectly normal, despite the readings.”_

_Bruce groaned, shaking his head. He mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, “Now I know where he gets it from.”_

Tony graciously chose to ignore that, and watched on.

_“So I picked one up, and all of a sudden it_ did _start glowing. Well, I didn’t know what to do and it would not stop no matter what I tried, so I put it back on the workbench. But by then the light from it was so large it engulfed the whole room. It was like a tunnel, with a dark spot over by the workshop door. I tried to walk toward the entrance but I couldn’t quite reach it and BANG! Here I am.”_

_The group looked at each other incredulously, not sure of the plausibility of such a tale. Surprisingly, it was Thor who stepped forward first._

_“You say these stones were close in nature to the Tesseract,” he began._

_“That_ is _what the SHIELD report said, I haven’t done my own tests yet. Why do you ask?”_

_It was Agent Coulson who spoke up this time. “Mr. Stark, this is Thor. Thor is from Asgard, another planet in the universe with a race of people who have god-like powers. The Tesseract is from Asgard and Thor may be able to shed more light on the situation.”_

_Now it was Howard’s turn to look incredulous. For a minute it seemed like he wasn’t going to believe Agent Coulson at all, until he saw the serious looks on everyone else’s faces, particularly Steve’s. He swallowed apprehensively, and nodded. “Okay, sure. I’ll buy your alien race story for now. What do you want to know about the crystals?”_

_“I wish to know what forms were taken by these crystals. How did they appear in shape, color, and weight?” Thor asked. Bruce pushed a pad of paper and a pen towards Howard, who began a rough sketch of the objects._

_He passed the drawing on to Thor and said, “The crystals were either red or a blue-ish white color, like the one I picked up, and about the weight of a large pebble. They looked perfectly fine in the box. They didn’t start reacting until I examined them.”_

_Thor studied the drawing carefully. “And while you contemplated your crystals, can you recall your ruminations, those set apart from observations of the stones? Perhaps you had occasion for errant thoughts to distract you from your task. Try to think very carefully and remember what those were.”_

_“That’s easy. I wanted more time to investigate the stones, while examining Fury’s other work for me, and running my company. So much do to and so little time.”_

_“Tell me: did the stones speak to you?”_

_Howard looked at Thor like he was out of his mind. “Did they_ speak _to me?”_

_“Yes, might you have heard voices, or perhaps a whisper?” Thor remained unruffled, as if it was a natural question to ask._

_“I...” Howard faltered. “Yes, I maybe heard whisperings as I came here, but nothing distinct. How did you know?”_

_Thor nodded, as though sagely wisdom had been bestowed upon him. “I suspect you were holding a Norn Stone.”_

_“A Norn Stone?” murmurs went around the room._

_“It is a magical artifact of Asgard. Norn Stones are capable of granting any desire —power, health, riches, a stroke of good fortune—but only for the right people, and only if the stone accepts the one holding it. It seems that in your wish for more time to complete your tasks, the stone removed you to a situation where you could do so. Though, why it thought that time travel was the answer remains a mystery.” He ended by shaking his head._

_The room went silent again before Clint spoke up. “Seems like these stones got you here. Wouldn’t that be the best way to get you back? Hold a stone, think hard about wanting to go back to your own time, and poof! You’ll be back in no time.”_

_“But I don’t have the stone with me,” Howard pointed out. “I left it on the workbench before it was too late to stop it.”_

_“Can we get one from Asgard?” Natasha suggested, looking directly at Thor._

_“They are somewhat rare, though not impossible to get, but there is another problem. You cannot simply use any stone. To undo its effects, you must use the original stone for that purpose,” said Thor._

_It was Bruce who spoke up next. “You said that the stones were from SHIELD, right? Well, logic would dictate that once you got back to your own time, you’d have given the stones back to SHIELD, so they might still be in storage today. If we could find where it is, the stone you used would be in the box, and all you’d have to do was pick each one up before you found the right one to bring you back, completing the loop.”_

_Howard nodded, “Circular time logic. Makes sense. And it might just work.”_

_Director Fury, however, looked worried. “We lost those stones in ’83._ Someone _,” he looked at Howard pointedly, “said he needed more time to figure out how they worked and then went and_ lost _them, never to be found again.”_

_“Then we need a Plan B,” Agent Hill said, frowning._

_Finally, Steve broke in. “Why don’t you just build a time machine?”_

_The whole group looked at him like he was nuts, especially Bruce and Howard. Steve argued, “Maybe I’m wrong, but technology is so advanced these days, it doesn’t seem that far-fetched. I mean, Loki_ did _open that portal last year, Howard knows all about the Tesseract, and I bet Stark Industries has enough tech. to do it again.”_

_A flash of inspiration crossed Bruce’s features. “You know, that’s not a bad idea. I have a good grasp on the theory, Dr. Foster has done enough work with the Einstein-Rosen Bridge and To— ah, our mechanic who left earlier knows enough about machines to put it in to practice.”_

_“You keep talking about this mechanic, but who is he?” Howard asked. “Does he work for Stark Industries?”_

Tony watched himself appear on screen again. He heard himself address Fury and Hill, and Fury call out, “ _We’ve been waiting for you. You’re late, Iron Man!_ ” He stopped the video there, leaning back in his chair. And then it finally sank in. Oh _hell_ , how was he supposed to build a time machine?


	2. Chapter 2

“So, time machine, huh?” he said to Bruce, still leaning back in his lab chair.

“Yup,” Bruce replied with a look that was both incredulous and resigned.

“Something tells me this is going to take a while.” Tony sighed, “And here I was, thinking we could use more Asgardian magic to send him back.”

“Right. I vote that we bring Dr. Foster on board.  You’re familiar with the mechanics, and we both have some of the physics and the theory under our belts, but Dr. Foster is an expert in traversable and non-traversable wormholes.”

“Can do, Big Guy. I’ll make the call and have her on the next StarkJet.”

“I think I should make the call,” Bruce suggested. When Tony looked at him questioningly he added, “She and I both have a distrust of SHIELD. It might go over better this way.”

“Right,” Tony nodded, “Speaking of which, I’ll have to talk to Fury tomorrow about the proprietary rights to the technology.” Tony liked to live on the wild and dangerous side, but even he could agree that messing around with time-travel was serious business and not something SHIELD should be allowed to touch. “I don’t want any of my stuff getting into the wrong hands, and I vote that SHIELD not be allowed to have access to the information.”

“I second that, and I’d hazard a guess that Dr. Foster feels the same way. I don’t think it’s a good idea for SHIELD, or anyone else, to have copies of the report.”

While Bruce contacted Jane, a call that took much more cajoling and convincing than either of them expected and was only a success once Jane realized Thor was here, Tony brushed up on his wormhole, extra-dimensional, and quantum gravity literature, compiling a reading list for Bruce and Howard. Well, and Jane too, but he figured she had probably read every scientific paper on wormholes that was out there.

Once Jane relented and Tony arranged for one of his private jets to pick her up first thing tomorrow morning, he e-mailed Jane and Bruce the files on his reading list. Bruce settled in to read while Tony uploaded the files manually to a StarkPad for Howard’s use. For a brief moment, Tony considered giving his father one of the oldest, most cumbersome StarkPad model as a slight to him, but then realized Howard wouldn’t know the difference between a geriatric and a top of the line model. In the end, he procured the latest version straight out of beta testing, and hoped that all of the bells and whistles would be enough to either suitably impress Howard, make him as frustrated as Steve was with technology sometimes, or both. Maybe it was petty, but Tony couldn’t help the small voice that said his dad deserved it if he couldn’t work Tony’s technology.

Bruce and Tony read through the literature until Clint called them for dinner. Well, it was JARVIS who actually announced that dinner was ready in the main kitchen on Clint’s request. The Avengers didn’t often eat together; after all, Clint and Natasha were frequently on assignment, Thor was usually either on Asgard or visiting Jane in New Mexico, and Tony was prone to locking himself in his workshop for days at a time. Despite that, they did try to have dinner together at least once a week and do something afterwards like play a board game or watch a movie or just go out to a bar. Steve said it was good for “team bonding,” and while a few people (ahem, _Natasha and Tony_ ) had agreed only very reluctantly at first, it was something that everyone had come to enjoy.

Tonight it was Clint’s turn to cook, and if Tony knew him, it would be comfort food. Maybe mac and cheese, or hamburgers. Tony hoped that Clint had made his famous oatmeal cookies too—he was going to need some comfort food after the day he’d been having.

Since it was only three flights up, Bruce and Tony took the stairs to the rec room and main living area. After the Chitauri attack in Manhattan, Tony had remodeled the top floors of the tower, moving the R&D labs down so that the top six floors were now Avengers’ living quarters (with an extra floor to spare, making it seven), and right below those was a communal living floor. Each of the six Avengers floors acted as a separate apartment unit, equipped with an average size kitchen, bathroom, living room, laundry room, and two bedrooms, but the main living floor featured an industrial kitchen with enough fridge and freezer space for Steve _and_ Thor at any given time, a dining table large enough for at least twelve, a huge home theater system complete with a digital movie collection to rival Netflix, a ping pong table, a pool table, and a collective work station with a few computers and a holographic projection table, intended for collaborative Avengers work.

Howard, whom he had managed to forget about for the past two hours while immersed in papers concerning the construction of wormholes, was unfortunately present, along with Steve. Tony waited for the others to arrive, careful to avoid drawing Howard's attention. Finally he heard the elevator doors _ping_ and Pepper emerged.

“Pepper, darling!” Tony practically sighed with relief, settling for a kiss on her cheek to show his gratitude for her arrival. Dropping his voice low, he added, “Please tell me you have an update on the legal situation.”

“They’re working on it, tell you later,” she responded before saying more loudly, “Sorry, am I late?”

“Just in time,” Tony said, nodding pointedly toward Steve and Howard.

“Hi Steve,” she greeted him with a warm embrace.

Before Tony could introduce her to Howard, he turned to them and asked, “Who is this, Tony?”

“This is Pepper Potts. Pepper, my dad. Like the others, she’s been apprised of your unique situation.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Potts. Do you also work for SHIELD?”

“SHIELD? Goodness no. I have enough on my plate as it is—”

“—Working for Stark Industries. Corporate level,” Tony cut in smoothly. He hoped Pepper would forgive him, but he wasn’t quite ready to have the argument with his dad over why Pepper was CEO and not him.

“Ah, so she works for you.”

“Well, you could say I work for her,” Tony tested the waters only to be met by a frown from Howard. Not good, not good. “Considering the inventions I put together in my spare time make up 43% of our product lines and have to be approved at the corporate level, Pepper being a key member...”

Howard still wore a visibly upset expression. Pepper, his savior as always, picked up the thread of Tony’s meaning, “I think I still work for you, Mr. Stark, considering that after all, you are the Chairman of the Board.” And it was even true. He was still the Chairman of the Board with majority shareholder control. Howard liked the sound of that, the wrinkles on his forehead smoothing out as he relaxed.

“Hey, is Obadiah still on the Board?”

“No,” Tony said quietly. “He passed away, about five years ago. Massive shock to the heart.” It was _probably_ true. That much electricity would have stopped his heart immediately before he came to a rather incendiary end at the bottom of the California facility’s arc reactor.

“Oh,” was all Howard said. Before he could say anything else, Clint interrupted.

“Okay, come and get it!” he announced, as Natasha and Thor arrived. He brought to the table plates piled high with grilled cheese, and pots of tomato soup large enough for everyone to serve themselves. Tony spotted a few plates of oatmeal cookies resting on the counter by the oven. Clint noticed him eyeing them and said, “Don’t even think about it, Tony. Eat your grilled cheese before it gets cold.”

Tony rolled his eyes but relented with a sarcastic, “Yes, mom.” He cast his eyes around the table, noting that his father was seated next to Steve. There were only a few chairs left, all unfortunately situated close to Howard. Fortunately, Pepper took the chair on Steve’s other side. There, now there were at least two people—Steve and Pepper—to serve as buffers between Tony and his dad at dinner. If he was really lucky, they might not even have to talk to one another at all. It wasn’t to be.

 “So, Tony,” Howard began as soon as they sat down, “Steve tells me you work for SHIELD now.”

“Consulting, actually,” Tony corrected, which was true. Once the Council approved Fury to formalize the Avengers Initiative, Tony had refused to sign the employment contract. He wasn’t an agent like Clint or Natasha, he just provided the tech and did the superhero thing when he was called on.

“I couldn’t believe it when Steve said that Nick finally got the Avengers Initiative off the ground,” Howard continued, ignoring Tony’s comment. “Of course, if there was anyone who could lead the Initiative, it would be Steve, isn’t that right?” He clapped Steve on the shoulder in a friendly gesture and Steve ducked his head, blushing. “He says you’re on his team. And all of your friends here, too,” Howard gestured to the table at large. “You know, Tony, it never occurred to me that you _just_ might be able to work for SHIELD one day.”

Ouch. Was that a backhanded compliment his dad was giving him? Wait, why was he surprised by that? And also, did his dad ever listen to him? Oh wait, that one was a “no,” too. Tony corrected him again, “Consulting. I only consult with SHIELD. The Initiative is on my own time.”

The whole table seemed to sense the unease coming from the exchange between father and son. Attempting to relieve it, Thor spoke up first. “Worry not, Howard Stark. Your son has done great battle and is a fine warrior in his own right. Why, not two years past, in our fine new city of York, he—”

“—Thanks buddy,” Tony took over from Thor. He meant it—that was very kind of Thor to stand up for him—but Howard didn’t need to know the details of the alien invasion. It wasn’t relevant to being here in the future, “but I don’t think Dad needs to know about that particular adventure.”

“What _can_ we tell him?” Clint asked, curious.

 “Yeah, I’ve ah, been trying to avoid tellin’ him too much history so far,” Steve chimed in. With a nod to Howard, “We went over basic commands with JARVIS so he can get around the Tower. But I’m waiting on you before I go over the internet.”

“You’ll know by tomorrow,” Tony answered. “I’ll write an algorithm tonight. It’ll calculate for multiple butterfly effects and filter for pertinent information only. It’ll be built into all your gear, Dad. Phone, tablet, laptop, the whole nine yards. And for everyone else, I’ll put in the app with your daily phone, tablet, and computer updates. When you search in any program tomorrow, you’ll have the option of doing it with the Butterfly Filter on, indicating whether or not you can tell our time traveler over here about it.”

“Don’t worry, after Steve told me how bad the baseball was going, I’m not sure I want to know about the future,” Howard responded.

Tony tensed anyway, hoping his dad wouldn’t ask any more questions. Sensing his discomfort, Pepper grasped Tony’s shaking hand under the table and began to rub in circles lightly with her thumb. She also brought their connected hands down on his thigh, forcing his leg to stop jittering. It was an old trick to calm him down, then again, Pepper knew him like the back of her hand, for which he was immensely grateful. Even though they were no longer dating—Pepper unable to take the worry and stress and hysteria that came with her boyfriend being Iron Man, which was fair enough—she was still there for him as a friend. He found he cherished her for that even more now.

Steve, his current and Tony hoped, long-term partner, also seemed to sense Tony’s growing unease at the current topic of conversation. Too far away to soothe Tony by touch, Steve redirected the conversation. He asked Bruce an intricate question about the progress on his own research, which necessitated that Bruce explain the minutiae to Howard, thereby engaging his attention elsewhere. Pepper and Steve. They were the constants in his life he could count on, and he was grateful for them.

 

Only after dinner did Clint allow the table to start on his oatmeal cookies, Natasha and Pepper sneaking more than was probably fair while Steve and Bruce helped with the dishes. Pepper was invited to movie night, but she begged off, citing a mountain of paper work. While Tony saw her out, she gave him an update on where the legal team was, confident that they would have something for Howard to sign tomorrow. Tony thanked her profusely, for that and for keeping him sane at dinner, and then sent her home.

When he returned, the team was arguing over what movie they should watch. Tony firmly vetoed anything post-1983 for now, especially the newer movies with CGI and advanced weaponry. No need to give his dad any ideas. With Steve backing him up as team leader, they finally settled on _WarGames_ , an old favorite of Tony’s involving an advanced AI system, a young Matthew Broderick playing the protagonist of teen hacker, and a Soviet missile strike simulation that was so real, the U.S. military and the AI system almost launched a counter-attack. The Avengers and Howard Stark watched as Matthew Broderick’s character was arrested by the FBI, broke out to find the creator of the AI system, and then averted the crisis in the nick of time.

Tony remembered seeing that movie in theaters multiple times, he was so enamored by it. First, he’d seen it with his nanny Sophie when it had come out toward the end of his last year at boarding school, then over the summer when he snuck out under her watchful eye and went to the theater by himself, and finally in October when it was so popular with the MIT kids that the local theater arranged for a special screening run so that there was no excuse for any student with half a social life _not_ to have seen it. Though the tech was obviously outdated now, it had a special place in Tony’s heart. It was the film that inspired him not to make the robot he was building remote controllable, but to program it with an AI system, a robot that later became Dummy and his senior thesis project. And from there he went on to program an even more sophisticated AI system with a voice interface for his masters degree, which of course was JARVIS.

After the movie, Tony handed Howard the tablet containing his wormhole reading list. Assuming Steve would show him how to work it if he hadn’t already, Tony quickly made his way to his workshop and began coding the algorithm he had planned on.

It was late, well past midnight when Steve slipped in to Tony’s workshop undetected. It was only when Tony looked up to find Steve sketching away diligently that he realized how distracted he’d been. “How long?” How long had Steve been there without him noticing, he meant.

“Half an hour. Forty-five, maybe.”

Tony made a noise that was half-displeasure, half-apology.

He never ignored whoever came to find him in his workshop, not Coulson, not Pepper—especially not Pepper, even though there were times when he wanted to—but Steve? Steve was a sneak. A dirty, silent sneak who would conspire with JARVIS and slink his way into Tony’s workshop, unannounced, and settle down at a table with his sketchbook. Steve would draw quietly while Tony tinkered with his cars or the suit or whatever new tech he decided to make for SI that day. And eventually, after maybe an hour, Tony would notice his presence and ask how long Steve had been down there.

At least, that’s how things had been in the beginning, when Tony and Steve had been circling each other, unsure of their chances at a romantic relationship, and Steve had used his sketching as a ploy to spend time with Tony. Now that they’d been dating for a little over a year, well, Tony had made it a point not to let Steve sneak up on him anymore. What kind of partner was he, if he couldn’t even tell when Steve walked in the room?

Usually it didn’t take Tony more than 10 minutes to notice, which was how he knew he was more distracted than usual. He went over to Steve and captured his lips in a fervent and enthusiastic apology. “Sorry.”

“I don’t mind,” said Steve between kisses. “I like watching you work,” he added once they broke apart.

“I just finished the information algorithm for Dad,” Tony explained. “If he uses any Stark technology or the Stark Network —which is all he will be using—he won’t find out anything about the future that he shouldn’t know. It’ll go on all of our Stark tech, so if you’re not sure whether you should be telling him something, you can look it up on your phone, tablet, computer, using the search add-on app I uploaded to the system. If it comes up, you’re good. If it doesn’t, he can’t know about it. Here, try it,” knowing Steve wouldn’t have his phone on him, Tony handed his over.

Steve quirked an eyebrow but did as he was told. He typed ‘Tony Stark Afghanistan’ into Google and waited for the results to populate. He scrolled through, viewing result after result until finally he looked up and said, “There’s nothing about your kidnapping, the first Iron Man suit, or Stane’s role in it.”

“Right. Dad and Obie were friends for a long time. But if he found out that Obadiah Stane had his heir to the company kidnapped in Afghanistan, he might fire Stane the minute he gets back to 1983, and I’d never become Iron Man, which, although being kidnapped wasn’t exactly fun, was a crucial event in the creation of Iron Man.”

“Gotcha,” Steve nodded, beginning to see how Tony was thinking. The more information Howard had about the future, the more chances he had to change it, and who knew what kind of effects that would have on the world they were living now. It would be better to play it safe than try to change too much. “Let me try another search.” Tony peered at his screen, where Steve had the SHIELD database pulled up, this time working through the results on ‘Agent Margaret Carter.’ A file came up that indicated she was alive and well, retired and living in England, a fact that Steve already knew. “Hey, this is great. Guess I can show Howard how to use Skype after all. Peggy and I have our weekly call tomorrow. I’ll ask him if he wants to join.”

“Sure thing,” Tony nodded. Even at the mention of Howard’s given name, Tony’s muscle gave an involuntary twitch. It was an automatic response to the mention of a father who never cared for or loved Tony, who only saw him as a failed, flawed son, if Howard’s criticism was to be believed.

“Thank you,” Tony went on, “for playing babysitter this afternoon. And handling him at dinner, keeping his attention away from me and all that.”

Steve winced. “I talked to him, told him he needed to lighten up. He seemed confused. I don’t think he realized how it came across.”

“Yeah? He should be telling me that, not you.” Tony didn’t really think his dad had said any of that, more inclined to believe Steve was lying for the sake of Tony’s feelings. If Howard wanted Tony to believe it, he was going to have to put his money where his mouth was.

“I know. I told him as much.” And then, because Tony was becoming agitated again, Steve kissed Tony’s forehead, holding him close.

When they pulled apart again, Tony sighed, realizing that this was going to require a longer explanation. He poured himself and Steve each a glass of Scotch and they headed over to the couch-slash-day-bed that Tony had added to the workshop, partly so he could sleep down here when he was working on a project and partly so he could, ahem, _sleep_ down here with Steve.

“Dad said he was from 1983. In 1983,” Tony began, “I was thirteen. That’s the year I started college at MIT. I spent four years there, came out with my bachelor’s and my master’s degrees in mechanical engineering. Before that, I’d been away at boarding school for four years; prestigious prep school, yadda yadda. The kids were way older than me and nobody wanted to room with the scrawny little genius. My mother hired a nanny to look after me and we lived across the street from the school. When I got accepted to MIT, Sophie went with me, and we lived in an off-campus apartment. Well, until I could convince my parents sophomore year that I didn’t need a nanny anymore. Seriously, a nanny at fourteen?”

Steve tilted his head to show that he was listening, but didn’t say anything. He waited for Tony to continue.

“What I remember most about going off to MIT is that Dad didn’t even say goodbye. The night before we left, I asked if he could be there to send us off and you know what he said? ‘Tony, you know I have important company work. You don’t need me to be there.’ When I insisted, he told me, ‘Don’t be weak, Tony. You need to learn to be strong when I’m not there. How will you run Stark Industries later if you can’t be strong now?’ I only relented because Mom promised he’d call once I got settled in. ‘Course—,”

“—he never called,” Steve finished for him, a hint of ire in his tone directed toward Howard.

“Nope. I didn’t see him until Thanksgiving, and even then, it was only for the two hours it took to serve the turkey for dinner and the pumpkin pie for dessert. That was pretty typical of him. Dad wasn’t around much. And when he was, it was to tell me I wasn’t good enough and I needed to try harder.” Tony sighed deeply, “Look, Steve. I know he was your war buddy, and that’s why I try not to talk to you about him, but he wasn’t the world’s best father.”

“I knew him when he was twenty-four,” Steve said. “You knew him when he was sixty-four. People change. And I’m sorry he didn’t change for the better.” Steve didn’t say it in a way that implied pity for Tony, but more in the sense that he was sorry for _Howard_ , that his friend hadn’t lived up to his potential as a husband or a father. “No matter what, I don’t want you to feel like you can’t come to me, that you can’t talk to me because of my friendship with Howard. We might not always start on the same page when it comes to him, but we’ll get there together. Okay?

“Okay.” There was silence for a minute and then, “What if we can’t send him back?” It was a fear that Tony would never admit to anyone except Steve, but it had been nagging at him all day.

“You will. Between you, Bruce, Jane, and Howard, I know you will.”

“What if we can’t?”

“Then we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. But really Tony, if I know you at all, you will.”

Steve said it with such conviction and surety that even Tony believed him for a minute. It was one of the many reasons he loved Steve so much. Steve believed in Tony and in his ability to do anything he put his mind to. It was one thing for Tony to believe in himself and his work, but a little validation from someone he loved was nice too.

Steve leaned in for a kiss, and Tony reciprocated, feeling the gentle press of Steve’s lips on his, the warmth of his mouth, and a faint hint of mint from what must have been the toothpaste he’d used before bed. They stayed like that for a while, and ordinarily Tony would have let it continue (and ordinarily he would have sped things up from the beginning), but nothing about the day had been ordinary, and this couldn’t be either.

“Honey,” he said, pulling away reluctantly. “There’s something else we have to talk about.”

“Sounds serious. What is it?”

“I’m sure you noticed at dinner that I didn’t tell my dad we’re together.”

Steve nodded. “I didn’t say anything to him, either. I figured that was your call.”

“Yeah. Dad was never—I don’t think he—He’s from a different time,” Tony finally settled on, which was an incredibly generous way of putting it, and he wasn’t quite sure _why_ he was being so generous, “And what with him already disappointed in me, I think it would be better if we...”

“...Kept him out of the loop?”

Tony nodded miserably, hating the idea already. Hiding his relationship like it was a dirty secret, no public displays of affection, heck, he and Steve wouldn’t be able to sleep in the same bed for the foreseeable future, without Howard becoming suspicious. “Are you mad at me?”

“What? No! Of course I’m not mad at you, Tony.” He wasn’t. Howard was Tony’s father, a relationship far more important than his own friendship with the older Stark. He would have to take Tony’s cue on this one. “If this is what you need to do while Howard is here, this is what we’ll do. Okay?”

Tony nodded a third time. “Thank you.”

“C’mere,” Steve said, drawing Tony in for a kiss.

“We won’t be able to do that around the house for a while,” Tony said. With some levity, “I think we should start making up for that now.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Steve replied, pulling Tony down onto the couch with him.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony went to SHIELD’s land-based headquarters, the Triskelion, in the morning to catch Fury before the director’s first meeting of the day with Howard. Tony argued long and loudly with Fury over the proprietary rights to the time travel technology and research they were about to embark on. Fury was predictably pissed with Tony, insisting that SHIELD be able to keep the technology in its arsenal, but Tony Stark hadn’t been the CEO of Stark Industries for nothing. He was practically a born negotiator and with how much money Tony had poured into SHIELD over the past few years, he knew he had Fury by the balls. In the end, Fury relented, agreeing to surrender the project entirely to Stark Industries in return for funding of other SHIELD activities.

Pleased with himself, he ran into Steve and Howard on his way out; Howard coming in for a debriefing on whatever top secret “mission” he was still working on from 1983. It meant that Howard wouldn’t be in the lab until the afternoon, and any time away from his dad was fine with Tony.

Howard being busy also gave Jane Foster time to fly in from New Mexico with her assistant, Darcy, who had recently graduated with a degree in political science and apparently knew nothing about astrophysics. Jane warned Tony and Bruce that Darcy was a little... overenthusiastic at times, and forbade Darcy to come to their first working session. Steve assigned Clint and Thor to babysit her for the time being.

By the afternoon, Bruce, Jane, Tony, and most unfortunately for him, Howard, were seated around a table in one of the largest labs at Stark Tower. (The only lab larger was a facility with a Hulk containment chamber for research on gamma rays.)

“Dr. Foster, good to have you with us.” Tony said, shaking her hand when she was the last one to arrive. Tony could be all charm and flattery when he wanted something, and he definitely wanted the mind behind some of the foremost research on Einstein-Rosen bridges working on this project. “I hope your flight was comfortable.”

“Yes, everything was great. Impeccable dining service! Thank you, Mr. Stark,” she smiled.

“Tony. Call me Tony, everyone does. This is Dr. Banner, but you already know that, and this is my Schrödinger’s father, Howard Stark.” Each of them shook her hand in turn (“Call me Jane,” she insisted), and Bruce stifled a laugh after hearing Tony’s epithet for Howard.

“Were you able to review the documentation I sent you earlier, or should I bring you up to speed?” Tony graciously took Jane’s work bag and pulled out a stool for her to sit down at the table.

“No, no, I had a chance to look at the footage, though I don’t really understand why you want me to work on building a time machine— _if_ such a thing were possible, which uh, I’m not sure it is but hey! I’m up for the challenge!” she smiled weakly.

“We’ve read about your work, and Dr. Selvig’s work with the Einstein-Rosen bridge,” Bruce began, “And we think it can help us solve our quandary.”

“The device Dr. Selvig built to work with the Tesseract created what was, essentially, a wormhole to another planet,” Tony reiterated, now talking in turns with Bruce to explain the reason for bringing her here. “We want to create a traversable wormhole to travel not just through space, but back in time.”

“Like, time travel time travel? The stuff of science fiction time travel?” Jane asked.

“Yup.”

“So… the thing about time travel,” Jane began gently, as though she were trying to break the news to Tony and Bruce that the Easter Bunny wasn’t real, “Is that it’s impossible. I mean, _everyone_ knows that. According to general relativity it’s impossible to travel to a time before a wormhole was created, so even if we started building one now, we could only go forward, not back in time.”

“Ah! But that’s _general relativity_ ,” Tony emphasized her own words. “It doesn’t take into account any of the quantum gravity theories that require multiple dimensions, like string theory or the Kaluza-Klein theory.”

“Great,” Jane said facetiously. “Now you want us to solve _the_ most unsolvable question in physics by coming up with a Theory of Everything _and then_ build a time machine?”

It was Howard who shook his head. “I got here by time travel, and it’s enough to know that there is something beyond general relativity which got me here. I don’t think that we need to _solve_ for a ToE, merely operate under the assumption that a fifth or even sixth dimension exists through which time flows freely.”

“But why would you even make the assumption of another dimension? Isn’t it just as likely that a quantum fluctuation singularity, I don’t know, caused a curvature of space-time in a way that briefly connected two discrete points along its geometry?”

“Huh,” Tony mused for a minute. “That’s actually not half-bad, but that would have superimposed the two points, with another time and place bleeding into ours, however very briefly. I think Bruce, myself, and my security cameras can prove otherwise. Besides, we have reason to believe it was some form of a traversable wormhole that caused all this.”

Jane raised her eyebrows, waiting for the explanation.

Howard explained somewhat cautiously, “When it happened, I could not reach the door to my workshop, no matter how many steps I took toward it. I walked toward the darkest spot, in contrast to the light engulfing the room, and then... I came out here. If that doesn’t sound like a tunnel, I don’t know what does.”

“But we’re not just building a time machine,” Bruce said. “It’s spring here and Howard said it was October where he was. If we want to solve the problem of seasons and the Earth’s position in orbit around the sun at a different time of the year, I think we need to build a machine that travels through both time _and_ space.”

“Of course,” Howard nodded thoughtfully. “Oh. We’re building a TARDIS.”

Recognition kicked in and Bruce said, “Yeah—hey, you’ve seen Doctor Who? I thought that wasn’t popular anymore, back in the 80s? I don’t even think it was broadcast in the U.S. back then.”

Howard shrugged. “It was a long time ago, back in the ‘60s. Peggy Carter and I were once holed up in a SHIELD safehouse for a week. The caretaker was an avid Doctor Who fan and it was the _only_ thing there was to watch on VHS while we were stuck there.”

Peggy Carter? Like his Aunt Peggy? When were his dad and his Aunt Peggy in a safe house together, and why? More importantly, was this before or after Howard married Tony’s mom? Special Director Stark, a secret SHIELD project in 1983, being forced into a hiding for a week on an earlier mission; Tony was learning more about his dad in the past two days than he had in a lifetime before this.

Of almost equal importance, “Doctor Who? Really? What happened to good old fashioned Star Trek or Battlestar Galactica?” Tony crossed his arms and leveled Bruce with a look.

“Who says I can’t be a Trekker and a Whovian?” Bruce grinned.

“You should talk to Darcy,” Jane added. “She loves both Star Trek and Battlestar Galactica. She even did her thesis on the use of aliens as a proxy for political commentary in media.”

“Hah!” Tony said triumphantly. “The battle of the sci-fi is _on_ , Big Guy!”

“Why don’t we put the fight on hold,” Bruce suggested, “and try to get back to the problem at hand. We still have two problems with this model. The first is controlling the energy output of the device. When Dr. Selvig created the wormhole two years ago, it created a concentrated burst of energy that went straight through the atmosphere into space. If we’re going to have a wormhole go through space _and_ time, we need to be able to calculate the landing point correctly so that the energy on the other side doesn’t knock out a building or a satellite.”

“Or we could put the energy to open the wormhole inside of it and create a localized portal,” Jane suggested, “Like a Stargate, but I don’t think we need a gate at the other end.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “ _You_ watch Stargate? No, redundant question, of course you would.”

“It’s a great idea,” said Bruce, referring to Jane’s suggestion, “But there’s just one problem: getting the energy to power the wormhole _inside_ of it. The amount of energy we’re talking about is massive - it wouldn’t even _fit_. And we’d have to violate causality to get it in there.”

“A tesseract.” All eyes turned to Tony, who was thinking hard. “Not _the_ Tesseract. _A_ tesseract, like the shape. A _tesseract_ is a four-dimensional version of a cube, which fits our model of time travel. A larger cube can fit inside a smaller cube if the larger one is farther away. We’ll have to engineer the wormhole to operate as a tesseract to fit the energy inside and localize the transport. Which is actually much safer, all things considered.”

Bruce gave a slow nod again. “Bigger on the inside. So we really _are_ building a TARDIS. Huh,” he paused. “And how do we get energy that created a wormhole _inside_ a wormhole before it exists?”

It was Howard who waved a hand, in a gesture eerily similar to Tony. “I’m not too worried about that. I think the nature of the time travel we are looking at will solve the contradiction itself. Besides, there were quite a few experiments that showed how to violate causality in the research papers Tony assigned last night.” Everyone looked at him like he was nuts, even Tony. “What, am I the only one who did the reading?” From the looks of Bruce and Jane’s faces, he was the only one who had finished the entire list. And Tony, of course, who wouldn’t give out papers he hadn’t read himself.

For a brief moment, Tony felt pathetically proud that his dad had actually paid attention to something he’d created, even if it was only a reading list. Then again, his entire relationship with his father was pathetic. Howard never paid attention to anything Tony did, and a younger Tony had always tried to find away to get his attention.

“We still have to figure out how to create enough energy to open the wormhole,” Jane said, bringing Tony back to reality.

“The Tesseract.” Howard and Tony said it at almost exactly the same time. Tony added, “And yes, I’m talking about _the_ Tesseract this time, in all its Asgardian glory.”

It was Bruce’s and Jane’s turn to groan at almost exactly the same time.

“You do realize the Tesseract isn’t here,” Jane said.

“What do you mean it’s not here? SHIELD doesn’t have it any more? Did they lose it?” Howard asked, alarmed.

“No,” explained Bruce, “It was, ah, returned. To its home planet. It’s called Asgard. …It’s the planet that Thor is from.”

“So?” It was Tony’s turn to argue in favor of the idea. “I think Thor’s daddy owes us a huge favor since we saved Earth while he was out to lunch, instead of watching over it like he was supposed to. The least he can do is lend us the cube for a couple months!”

Bruce sighed. An argument with Tony wasn’t even worth it when Bruce would inevitably lose anyway. “I’ll call Fury.”

Jane added, “And I’ll get Thor.”

 

“ _The Tesseract?!?”_ Fury’s voice would have squawked on screen if he weren’t too dignified for squawking, but it was a near thing.

“Though I am not often of this opinion, I concur with the Director,” Thor said, looking troubled.

Jane had brought him up to the lab while Bruce dialed Fury into a video conference call. For his part, Howard tried hard not to look too impressed at the technology. He mostly succeeded, but Tony caught him staring in awe at the console interface a few times. It also brought Tony another warm feeling of pride, that his dad was impressed with the Stark Industries’ technology he had built.

“I have many doubts that my father would be willing to allow the Tesseract to come back to Earth, even for a short while,” continued Thor. “Is it vital to the project?”

They went on to explain, in layman’s terms, the basics of the project, and why they’d need the Tesseract.

“Even if you had the Tesseract,” said Agent Hill, who was also there for the call, “Who says that would work? It was Loki and Loki’s magic stick that helped open and close the portal.”

“Well then, not only do we need the Tesseract, we’ll either have to borrow Loki, the stick, or both. Don’t you think so, Director?” retorted Tony.  
  
He and Fury had a staring match for a good minute and a half before Fury rolled his eye. “The stick we could get from storage. The God of Mischief? You’ll have to ask Odin.”

“I wish to help your quest in any way I can, but it appears unlikely that my father will relinquish either the Tesseract or Loki,” Thor shook his head.

“Make sure you remind the Allfather that it was _he_ who let his son _invade Earth_ while he sat back and chose to send his other son without any kind of back up, no Asgardian army, no fellow warriors, to stop the alien invasion all on his own,” Tony reiterated. “And let’s not forget my particular contribution to ending that fight. I think he owes me one big time, don’t you?” Thor at least had the grace to blush.

“It’s not just for the time travel project,” Jane insisted, coming to rest her hand on Thor’s arm. “If we could get the Tesseract here for just a short time, I might be able to help figure out how to create another portal to Asgard or—or—help re-build the Bifrost! Surely that’s worth using the cube to investigate?” It didn’t hurt that she gave him a doe-eyed look he couldn’t resist.

“Very well,” Thor relented. “I shall petition my father to grant your requests, Tony Stark and... Jane,” he said the last word softly, holding her hands tenderly in his. “I shall go now and—”

“Wait!” Jane interrupted. “I just got here today. Why don’t you stay the night and ah, leave tomorrow? Surely this can wait just one more day?” She looked around the room, willing the others to agree with her.

“You can leave tomorrow,” Tony agreed and Jane looked like she could kiss him. “I want to put together a list of technical questions for some of the components we’ll need. If there’s a chance someone on Asgard can answer them, I’ll take it.”

Thor nodded his assent. “Then it is settled. I shall arrange travel for the morrow. The Allfather has left me with enough dark magic for one trip, but I shall forewarn you: with the Bifrost still gone and travel difficult, it may take time and much effort before I return with an answer.”

“Then we’re done here,” Fury cut in. “Thor will let us know about the Tesseract when he returns, and the rest of you will start working on the machine in the meantime. I’m sure there’s plenty to do that doesn’t involve having the Tesseract just yet.” He cut the connection and the screen went blank.

 

For the next few hours, they split up into teams working on different components of the project. Jane and Howard were paired up writing some of the equations for creating a four-dimensional space to house the energy of the wormhole while Bruce and Tony wrote out a list of questions they wanted to ask the Asgardian magicians, or whoever Thor could get to talk to him. They asked a few questions about inter-dimensional travel for the gatekeeper, Heimdall, but Tony doubted that few Asgardians would have any sort of grasp on traversable wormholes. Instead, Tony and Bruce asked questions that primarily related to the nature of the universe. There were many, many theories of space time and many equations for wormholes to go with each. If they could get a handle on, or even a hint in the right direction on, what kind of universe they were looking at, it could help refine their equations.

Of course, phrasing these questions in a way that an Asgardian might understand proved to be difficult, and they were refining the list when JARVIS’ voice broke through the comm. system. “Sir, Ms. Potts requests the presence of you and your father in her office.”

“Tell her we’ll be up later, JARVIS, I’m busy here.”

“Sir, Ms. Potts insists that the matter is urgent. The head of the legal department is waiting with her.”

 _Oh._ So _that’s_ what was so urgent. The legal department had finally prepared papers for Howard to sign to ensure that he wouldn’t try to take over the company while he was here. Not that it was _likely_ to happen, but with Howard, Tony could never be sure. Better safe than sorry.

Tony looked up from his work and Howard tried to catch his eye, but he looked away, determined not to acknowledge him more than necessary.

“Messaged received, JARVIS. Tell Pepper that we’ll be up in a minute.” To Howard he said, “Come on, Dad. We’re needed on Stark Industries business.”

Howard had no choice but to follow Tony out of the room, looking lost as they took the elevator up to Pepper’s office while Tony still wouldn’t look at him properly. In truth, Tony was nervous about how this was going to go. Not just about the papers his dad would need to sign, but about finding out his son _wasn’t_ the CEO of Stark Industries anymore. Howard had always been a womanizer—something that Tony had taken after in his younger years—and given the times, who knew how he’d take to the news of a woman as the CEO of Stark Industries?

They sped past the receptionist Tony never paid attention to anyway, and into the office of one Pepper Potts. “Tony, Mr. Stark. It’s good to see you again,” she said in the mannered voice of a perfect host. Standing next to her was the head of legal - an older man named Geoffrey (his last name escaped Tony at the moment) who had probably been around during the time _Howard_ was CEO.

“Geoffrey? Is that you?” Howard asked as he came into the room. Okay, he had definitely been around in Howard’s time.

“It’s good to see you again, Mr. Stark,” the head of the law department shook his hand. Howard looked unsure if he should be sharing the details of his intertemporal travel but the other man quickly said, “I’ve been apprised of the situation. And sworn to secrecy. No need to worry, Mr. Stark.”

“Ah. Well in that case, good to see you again, pal,” said Howard. “I remember when you first started in legal. Young, talented, sharp as a tack. It’s no surprise to me they made you the head of the department.”

The other man ducked his head a little while gesturing for Howard to have a seat. Tony and Pepper sat down as well, observers to the proceedings. Geoffrey began by explaining the situation, “Mr. Stark, that is your son Tony, and Ms. Potts asked me to look into the legality of his rights in terms of majority ownership over the company. As you know, upon your death Tony became the CEO and Chairman of Stark Industries. To be clear, your death certificate has been filed with the state of New York and the federal government and would take some time and work to reverse. Ms. Potts revealed to me the efforts being undertaken to reverse your situation so filing for a reversal seems unnecessary.

“However, your time travel has raised questions of whether or not Mr. Stark, Tony that is, would still be entitled to those positions if proof of your being alive _could_ be pushed through the courts. Now, Miss Romanoff and I looked through all the files we could find in legal last night, the charter, bylaws, subsequent modifications. I even looked through the files that haven’t been added to the digital system and I found _this_ paper, which dates to a bylaws meeting in 1989. It states that even if you were still alive, majority shareholder ownership of the company, as well as the position of CEO, would transfer to your son in 2005 when he turned 35.” Geoffrey glanced over at Tony, who was relieved to hear the news, and Ms. Potts, who was pleased with his delivery of the explanation. “So either way, today he would still be considered the Chairman of Stark Industries, regardless of ah, your status as living or deceased.”

Howard took the document from Geoffrey and read through it. When he was finished, he handed it back, nodding in agreement. The other man handed him another document, less wrinkly and much newer looking than the first one. “This agreement simply acknowledges the precedent set by the other document. It states that you understand the other document and have agreed not to contest it, thereby allowing Tony to remain Chairman of the Board.”

Howard read through that document as well, but he stopped when he read the line, _‘and the subsequent appointments made by Anthony E. Stark, including but not limited to the appointment of Ms. Virginia Potts as CEO of Stark Industries...’_

“What is this nonsense, Tony?” he roared at his only son, who flinched in response. “It says that you appointed that—that—woman as CEO of _my company_! You cannot seriously be telling me that she,” he gestured toward Pepper, “is running Stark Industries. _STARK_ Industries!”

“Okay, it’s time for you to leave,” Pepper nervously said to Geoffrey, amidst Howard’s shouting. She forcibly pushed him out the door and toward the elevator, lest he eavesdrop on a Stark family feud.

Meanwhile, back in her office, Tony felt about twelve again, listening to his father. He had come in here prepared with all sorts of rebuttals and justifications for his dad but the moment Howard had started shouting, he was unable to recall any of them. Finally, he managed to retort, “Well she’s doing a damn good job of it! Is this because she’s a woman? I always knew you were a misogy—”

“I don’t care if she’s a woman or not, it’s because she’s _not a Stark and you are!_ I always knew you’d be a disappointment to me. You couldn’t even handle the responsibility of CEO so you passed it on to someone else! What would Captain America say if he were here? Is this how a leader behaves?”

God, and didn’t that hurt Tony, bringing up old wounds from his childhood? When was he _not_ being compared to Perfect-Captain-America and found wanting? But Tony knew the real Captain America now, and he would have been disappointed at Howard for invoking his name to use against Tony.

“Oh no. I’m not ten anymore, Dad, and you are **NOT** bringing Steve into this. I know him better than you do, I know what he thinks of this, and he’s on the same page as me! I asked Pepper to be CEO because I have a lot going on. I come out with more inventions and improvements on Stark Industries’ tech than the rest of R &D combined in a year, I’m constantly improving the Iron Man and War Machine systems, and I’m out there fighting alongside the rest of the Avengers whenever there’s a crisis! How am I supposed to have time for board meetings and marketing strategies?”

“The same way I did! Do you think it’s easy, balancing my work at the company with everything SHIELD wants me to do _and_ trying to have time for my family?”

“Oh yeah, because you were _always_ there for Mom and I. What a joke!” Tony shot right back.

“I _tried_!” Howard roared. “I was there as much as I could but you seem to forget that I was working for everything we had—all the clothes and trips your mother took, the education you had at MIT, so that you could _learn how to run this company_! I made sure you had everything you ever asked for!”

Tony closed his eyes in a pained expression, backed against the desk with his head bent forward. ‘ _Not everything,’_ he thought to himself. ‘ _Mom would have given up every diamond in her jewelry box, every trip to Aspen, and I would have traded every computer, every robotics part I could get my hands on if you had just spent a little more time with us._ ’

When Howard saw that no reply was forthcoming from Tony, he took up the piece of paper again and scribbled his name at the bottom. “I’ll sign your damned paper, but just know that you’re a disappointment to me, Tony.”

With that, he strode out of the office, nearly running into Pepper on the other side of the door. “Good day, Ms. Potts,” he nodded sharply before making his way to the elevator.

Pepper rushed into the room toward Tony who was drained from the ordeal. She pulled him into her chest and he relaxed into her arms like a marionette who’d had his strings cut loose. “It’s okay, Tony. It’s going to be okay.”


	4. Chapter 4

After a while Steve came up and traded places with Pepper when she had to run to a meeting. He insisted Tony tell him the whole story, which Tony did reluctantly. It certainly completed the picture that Howard had started for him earlier, but the older Stark had also omitted some parts in his re-telling. Like using Captain America as a ruler by which to measure Tony and find him wanting. Steve was going to have a long talk with Howard later, but Tony was his main concern for the time being.

Pepper eventually came back to check-in on Tony, who thanked her and assured her he was okay. Steve shot her a contradictory glance when Tony wasn’t looking, but they both sent her out before she could be late for her date night with Happy.

Since it was so close to dinner time and Steve insisted on making his famous chicken parmesan for Tony, they had their own impromptu date night in Tony’s apartment, away from the rest of the team. Steve had asked Natasha to babysit Howard for a while, just in case he somehow wound up walking in on an awkward moment between he and Tony.

While Steve let the pasta cook and turned on the timer for the chicken, he and Tony returned to the topic of Tony’s fight with Howard.

“You think he’s _right_? Steve, come on. Even you can’t seriously be defending him.”

“I’m not. And I don’t think he’s right by a long shot. I think Howard is wrong about the whole thing. And you can bet he and I will be having words about it, _especially_ his use of Captain America in it,” which, if that was a common occurrence in the Stark household growing up, no wonder Tony had issues with him when they first met.

“But...? I hear a ‘but’ in this, Steve,” Tony said in a warning tone.

“There is no ‘but.’”

“So you agree with me?”

Steve made a non-committal noise, stirring the pasta so it wouldn’t stick to the sides of the pot. “I think he’s misguided. He means well—”

“ _What?_ ”

“—but he’s not thinking about the bigger picture. Every parent has dreams for their kid, right? What you chose to do is very different than what he envisioned for you. I haven’t told him much about what you do for SHIELD or the Avengers or Stark Industries. He doesn’t know that what you’re doing now is better than what he imagined you would do. I think if you explain it to him, give him a chance—”

“Give him a chance? I gave him 21 years full of chances that he blew at every turn! The day before he died, he told me I was lousy and irresponsible for spending more time on my PhD in Electrical Engineering—a PhD _which he suggested I get_ —than putting my MBA, my master’s in business administration, to good use helping out with the company.”

 “Your MBA degree?” Steve asked, confused. “I thought you said you got your master’s in engineering?”

“I did. That was when I was seventeen, but after that and before I took over the company, I went back to get my MBA from Harvard and my first PhD from MIT. Dad insisted on the MBA. He said it would help out with running the company.”

Steve looked gobsmacked as he pulled out the chicken parmesan from the oven and drained the pasta over the sink. “Tony, you have _four degrees_ \- a bachelor’s degree, two masters’, and a PhD and you never told me?”

“Five, actually. It took me three and a half years to get the second PhD in Physics from Stanford. It felt like forever since I was running Stark Industries from California at the time. Did you think I was kidding when I said I was a genius?”

“Well, no, I just thought you were being a little... arrogant, that’s all.”

Tony threw his hands up in exasperation. “Why does everyone think that? It’s always Doctor Banner this and Doctor Foster that, meanwhile I’m stuck with plain old ‘Mr. Stark, Mr. Stark!’ and I _still_ get called egotistical. God forbid I ask to be called Doctor Stark once in a while! I can’t win, can I?”

Steve snorted softly. They both knew there were plenty of other reasons the media, and the public at large thought Tony was a little haughty and self-obsessed. “Sure, Tony,” he agreed in an amused tone. He brought over the chicken and the pasta and Tony started helping himself, still grumbling about the difference between arrogance and truth.

“Mmm... Steve, this is amazing! I haven’t had chicken parmesan this good since... well, since the last time you made it.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Steve said, sitting down to his own plate.

“I’d return the favor, but well, you remember the last time I tried to make you dinner.”

“Ah... yes. Yes, I do,” Steve was clearly reliving the moment, halfway between horrified and amused. “I’m sure you’ll find another way to make it up to me. That doesn’t involve cooking.”

“Actually,” Tony dropped his voice a register as he put his hand on Steve’s thigh, “I think I know exactly how I can make it up to you.”

 

It was a weird feeling for Tony to wake up alone after having great sex with Steve. They both knew that Howard would get suspicious if Steve _never_ came back to his apartment at least to sleep, and since they were keeping their relationship from Howard (no sense in starting another argument with him), it meant a quick shag and the walk of shame for Steve. 

Tony still didn’t like it, though. He was lucky that he found Steve early in the morning when he went for coffee in the main kitchen a few floors below. Tiptoeing as quietly as he could, he snuck behind Steve while the other man was flipping pancakes at the stove. Tony wrapped his arms around Steve, “Guess who.”

“Good morning, Tony,” Steve turned around long enough for a quick kiss before taking the pancakes off the griddle and pouring on another batch. There were already three mountains of pancakes on plates to the side, but between Steve and Thor, they’d be gone in the blink of an eye. 

“Good morning, hot stuff.” Tony started the coffee while Steve finished up the last of the pancakes, and then he helped Steve carry everything over to the table, sneaking in a few more kisses along the way.

“Not that I don’t enjoy this, but doesn’t it kinda defeat the purpose of me sleeping alone last night? Anyone could walk in right now.”

Tony was the one who said they should keep things under wraps, but honestly, he rarely followed his own rules, expecting Steve would keep him in line at times like this. He sighed. “You’re right, you’re right.” Just then, Jane and Thor walked in and Steve gave Tony a look as if to say, ‘I told you so.’

Tony sighed again. This was going to be a long day.

 

When Howard arrived at the lab, he pulled Tony aside for a minute. Tony waited expectantly, wondering what kind of argument they would get into this time. 

Howard took a deep breath and said, “I looked at the SI stock and the financials. Your CEO, Ms. Potts? She’s good. You picked someone who could handle the company well.”

Tony knew this was as close to an apology as he was going to get from his dad, though it left a lot to be desired. Howard only said Pepper wasn’t a bad CEO. He certainly didn’t retract his disappointment in Tony for not running Stark Industries himself.

He nodded to his dad, determined to keep the peace for now at least, and then gestured to the lab, indicating the work that needed to be done. “Shall we?”

Howard and Jane continued their calculations from yesterday, while Tony and Bruce finalized the list of questions for Asgardian academics and sorcerers. Later, they fitted Thor with a point-and-shoot camera to record the answers, also giving him a pen & paper in case it failed. They asked him to bring back any artifacts he could that pertained to the project, though Thor warned it might not be much. After some arm twisting from Steve, Coulson also gave them access to the alien and man-made tech that SHIELD was housing. Some of it went to Thor to take back as an exchange for Asgardian artifacts, and some of it went to Tony and Bruce for further research purposes. Thor returned to Asgard and they continued their research, awaiting his return.

 

The long days turned into long weeks and Tony was getting pretty fed up with all of it. Aside from that half-assed apology, things weren’t looking good between Tony and his dad. Howard didn’t miss a chance to point out Tony’s mistakes in the calculations, or casually dismiss his son’s ideas when they were brainstorming. Or at least, that’s how it seemed to Tony. The majority of his calculations and theories were sound, but Howard only seemed to point out the mistakes, never the things he’d done correctly.

But Tony didn’t keep quiet during the times when Howard came around to criticize him. He wasn’t a kid anymore and he’d stopped believing his dad was infallible and started realizing what a shit father he was a long time ago. Tony gave as good as he got, cutting deep and twisting the knife in where he could. More than once, things had ended in a shouting match between father and son. Tony couldn’t take it anymore, and neither could Bruce and Jane, by the looks of things.

As both of them had outside obligations—Tony to Stark Industries and Howard to SHIELD—they worked around each other’s schedules and tried not to be in the lab at the same time. When it was unavoidable, they resorted to working in pairs. Tony usually teamed up with Bruce, and Jane with Howard, but Tony never worked with Howard one-on-one. It didn’t stop the arguments and the sniping completely, but it lessened the effect. Tony didn’t care; as long as the tech worked and his dad could go home soon, that was all that mattered.

 

At the moment, Tony was taking a break from both company work and the time travel lab. It was the end of a hard sparring session with Clint, and both of them were breathing hard. Tony enjoyed himself immensely, sorely needing the stress release that came with it. They both sat down on the bench, taking a minute to cool down and rehydrate. 

“I'd ask if everything's alright with you, but from the way you were sparring, I think I know the answer to that,” Clint opened the conversation.

“Am I that obvious?” Tony made a face. Maybe if his dad was a little nicer and a little less condescending, Tony could have put up with it for now. For the past few weeks, Tony felt like he was re-living his teenage and early twenty years: Howard would accuse him of not working hard enough or scold Tony for any flippant behavior he didn’t like, which was, quite frankly, humiliating in front of his friends (Bruce) and colleagues (Jane). In return, Tony would give as good as he got. He wasn’t a kid anymore, he wasn’t going to excuse Howard’s behavior, and he didn’t have to take orders from his dad. “I can't wait for us to finish this time machine. I want him to _leave_. He’s driving me crazy.”

“I'd heard as much.”

“From who?”

“Darcy, who heard it from Jane, who obviously saw it in the lab.”

Ah. Darcy. Apart from dinner, Tony had only met her a few times. She was fast-paced and a bit scatterbrained, which was fine with Tony when they were making fun of zombie movies together, but more than a little annoying when she interrupted their work in the lab. Even though she was Jane's assistant, Jane had mercifully kept her away from the lab, relegating Darcy to data entry of their progress, coordinating with Erik on a project he had going, and encouraging Darcy to finish her application for grad school.

“Don't worry," Clint added. "Don't like him either.”

“Yeah? Why's that?”

It was Clint's turn to make a face. “Nat’s helping him with whatever it is that Fury has him working on. That SHIELD project he said he started in ‘83. It's got something to do with the Cold War and the Russians, so he keeps asking her for ‘assistance’ with the Russian translations. As if Natasha is the only member of SHIELD who speaks Russian." He rolled his eyes for good measure.

“There has to be a reason for it. I mean, this is Natasha we’re talking about. She wouldn’t allow it otherwise. I wonder if SHIELD assigned her to the project.” It would make sense, given her past history as a Red Room assassin working for the Soviets. A past history that Tony had totally not broken into SHIELD’s secure files to find. Nope, not at all.

“Coulson won’t tell me what’s going on, and I'm not happy about it. I know she can hold her own but it doesn’t mean I can’t look out for her.”

“You don’t still have that crush on her, do you?”

Clint rolled his eyes, “I’ve told you this before, I never had a _crush_ on her to begin with. Just because _you_ are incapable of being on the same team with someone without dating him doesn’t mean that we all are. Nat’s like my sister, man.” He added in an undertone, “My _older_ sister who taught me how to kick butt and take names.”

Tony heard it anyway and laughed. Okay, fair enough. “Well what about that agent you were dating? Simmons?”

 “Didn’t work out,” Clint shook his head. He went on, "But I've been spending a lot of time with Darcy lately."

Tony grinned. "Oh? Come on, are you going to give me details? Sharing is caring!"

"Okay, okay. Well, it all started when...”

 

Tony got the whole story from Clint, which was a welcome distraction from the work in his lab and his related family problems. It was nice to know at least Clint was on his side. If push came to shove, Tony knew Steve would back him up, but it was hard to feel that way at times. Steve certainly spent a lot of his time with Howard, whether it was showing him how to Skype with Peggy Carter in England, taking a walk in Central Park with him, recounting their wartime stories, or catching up on what they’d been doing since the war. 

The sudden presence of his dad wasn’t the only thing troubling Tony. The time machine they were building to send Howard back also weighed heavily on Tony’s mind. The machine was really just another wormhole, only one that went through both space _and_ time. Nevertheless, it was a wormhole like the one that had allowed the Chitauri to invade Earth two years ago. A wormhole like the one Tony had gone through and watched his life flash before his eyes as a nuclear missile exploded a ship in a distant part of space. A wormhole like the one that he hadn’t expected to walk away from but did, in return for anxiety, PTSD, and subsequently a lot of therapy.

Right now, Tony was starting to think that he might have to give his therapist a call soon if things didn't improve. During the day, he primarily worked on the wormhole in the lab with Bruce, Jane, and, on occasion, Howard, or otherwise attended Stark Industries meetings if he was needed. At night he took to his personal workshop to improve the Iron Man suit or upgrade the team’s tech or tinker with a new idea he had for Stark Industries. It didn't matter, as long as it kept his mind far away from the wormhole and the Chitauri invasion on New York. But there was only so much he could suppress while he was awake (and he could only be awake for so long before succumbing to the need for sleep), and it was then that what he suppressed during the day came to haunt his dreams.

The dreams weren't always about New York. Sometimes they were just about the sensation of falling, of feeling out of control and unable to stop himself. But thrice now he had woken up gasping for breath, bolting upright in bed before realizing where he was. And tonight he _had_ dreamed of New York, of reliving the explosion before the Iron Man system shorted out, of waking up and knowing he almost _hadn’t_ woken up.

Tony wished desperately that Steve was here, and not in a bed on the next floor up. They both had their demons that occasionally came to haunt them at night, but Steve could always count on Tony to calm him down, and Tony could always count on Steve's soothing presence to comfort him.

Tony rolled over to look at the clock. 6:47 A.M. It was early enough that Steve would be awake by now but that probably no one else was. It was the perfect time to catch him alone in the kitchen.

Luck was on his side, as Steve was downing the last forkful of eggs on his plate when Tony entered the kitchen. Tony didn't even bother with a preamble, just barreled into Steve head first, wrapping his arms around Steve fiercely.

"Hey, good morning, Tony," Steve said softly. "What's gotten in to you?"

"Bad dream," came the muffled reply. Tony unburied his head from Steve's chest to add, "New York."

"I was worried this might happen, ever since you explained how the time machine was another wormhole.” Steve was smart enough to know Tony wouldn’t want to talk about the dream right now, so he asked instead, “Have you thought about calling Dr. Morgan?"

"Thought about it," Tony mumbled. "If it doesn't let up soon, I will. I promise," he added for good measure, instinctively knowing that Steve was giving him a look of skepticism without having to look up at his face. "I just wish we didn't have to do this song and dance around my dad. It's driving me nuts that I can't be myself or be with you _in my own house_. And you spend so much time with him." Tony knew he wasn't being fair to Steve even as he said it, but he was upset and tired, and frustrated.

"I’m not trying to... We haven’t seen each other in years. A lot of years, at least for him,” Steve tried to explain, “And I know he won’t be here forever. I guess I just don’t want to waste what time we do have. But I didn’t mean to do it at your expense. I’ll try to come down to the workshop more often.” He pressed his lips to Tony’s, an apology and a promise. He pulled away and said, “Enough about Howard, let's talk about you and what I can make you for breakfast before the others get in."

"Now you're talking!" Tony grinned as the two of them got up from the table and headed over to the fridge.

Tony was pretty handsy with Steve as they made breakfast, or what was second breakfast for Steve. They made waffles with fruit this time; Tony even helped cut up the strawberries and apple slices while Steve worked the waffle maker.

The kitchen was still empty by the time they sat down to eat, so they took advantage of the time alone to feed each other breakfast—something that Steve enjoyed and that Tony didn't mind indulging him in one bit. Eventually this led to a lot of syrupy kisses, which led some heavy petting in the kitchen before Steve came to his senses. Looking at the clock he said, "We'd better stop. It's about the time the team will start coming down for breakfast."

Following his gaze to the timer on the microwave, Tony nodded, resigned. It was a good thing, too. Half a minute later, Howard strolled through the doorway, greeting them both with a cheery, "Good morning." Tony gave a half-hearted reply, thinking that his morning would have been a lot cheerier without the interruption.


	5. Chapter 5

Thor returned from Asgard that day, his arrival announced by a freak downpour that went as quickly as it came. In all honesty, Tony was surprised by how soon Thor had returned. He had expected a little groveling in front of Odin would take more than two and a half weeks from his departure date. Of course, if Odin had denied the request, maybe that was why he was back so soon. But no, Thor was in a jovial mood, even more so than usual. That had to be good news, right?

"I come bearing good news, my friends!" Thor confirmed as he arrived at their lab. Howard was at the Triskelion working on his project for SHIELD, so it was just Tony, Bruce, and Jane. Thor went on, as though reading from a script, “The Allfather has decreed the Tesseract be loaned to the Iron Man. He grants this request to honor the mighty deeds of the warrior Tony Stark: his protection of this realm in the Allfather’s stead, his defense of Earth from the chaos unleashed by my brother, and his valiant sacrifice to avenge its inhabitants.”

Thor took out the Tesseract and its casing from his pack and set it on the table for all to see. Jane seemed particularly fascinated by it, but then again, she'd never seen it in person before. Thor also returned the technology he had left with, looking dismayed as he conveyed his next words, “I was not permitted to carry with me any other artifacts from Asgard, and the Allfather would not agree to release my brother of his prison, even for a short time, to assist. But I did ask your questions, and the answers are recorded on your device!” Thor handed over the small camera to Tony and Bruce, who immediately opened it for a cursory look.

“Thor, most of this footage is your brother,” Bruce said half-questioningly.

Thor nodded. “Loki indeed replied to many of your inquiries, at length. He is one of the most talented sorcerers on Asgard, and knows much in the ways of the Tesseract, the Norn Stones, and the subject matter of your queries. It seemed appropriate to seek him out for answers.”

“And how do you know he isn't making everything up on here? Loki _is_ the God of Mischief,” Tony asked suspiciously.

“There is no guarantee for the truth of his words,” Thor admitted readily, “But he has been told by the Allfather that leniency may be granted in the punishment for his crimes, should his words prove truthful.”

“What kind of leniency are we talking about?” Tony asked.                                            

“Our father agreed to reduce his sentence to a thousand years, should his words aid you in your endeavor. If they are not, the conditions of his imprisonment will not be as pleasant as they are now.”

“A thousand years?! How long is he imprisoned for?”

“For far longer than I wish it to be,” he answered ruefully. “It is my hope that his information will be of use.”

“Thanks, buddy,” Tony said sincerely.

Thor took his leave after that, and the three of them—Tony, Bruce, and Jane—began to pour over the new information that could lead them one step closer to solving the mystery of their time and space wormhole.

In the interest of robust data, Bruce and Tony had encouraged Thor to ask the same questions to multiple parties. The more similar the answers, the better chance that the information was correct, and vice versa. The trouble was, most of the Asgardian magic users, wise men, and academics who answered their questions had never been to Earth and so many of the analogies and references they used were lost on Bruce and Tony. Jane understood most of them from spending her time with Thor, though when she wasn’t able to, they dragged Thor back to the lab for questioning, scribbling down answers furiously.

It was a relief then, that Loki’s answers matched up with what many of the other Asgardians said, but as he had previously lived on Earth for some time, his answers were deliberately given with a Midgardian frame of reference. It made them much easier to understand, and helped to parse some of the rambling thoughts of other Asgardians on the footage.

Of particular interest, all of the Asgardians interview by Thor confirmed the existence of more than four dimensions, though Loki put it best, “ _Time does not merely run length-wise in a straight line. Like the great serpent that bites its own tail, time may circle itself, crossing a path it has walked before. The cause may become the effect, and the effect then becomes the cause._ ”

In comparison, this was actually a straightforward answer to one of the most important questions, and biggest roadblocks, they’d come across. It confirmed that time not only existed as a length, but also as a width, primarily taking a circular form across a plane. If Tony went back in time, met Dr. Erskine, and suggested he talk to a “Steven Grant Rogers” on June 14, 1943, because Tony already knew that’s when Erskine was _supposed_ to meet Steve, that was a circular, not a linear path, traveling through two dimensions of time, not one.

“So they’re saying that it’s perfectly fine to violate causality?” Bruce looked a little woozy at the notion, like he was in the middle of a experiencing a paradigm shift, which, to be fair, he probably was. Heck, Tony was too. Jane was pretty unflappable, though. Nothing seemed to phase her.

And finally, the last question they reviewed was one that no Asgardian sorcerer could answer, save for Loki. It made them wary to trust the answer, but as his other answers were corroborated, it seemed possible this was also true.

“ _What is the nature and character of time? Is time fixed, or are past events changeable?”_ Thor’s voice asked offscreen, quoting what Bruce had written down.

Loki laughed. “ _My, my. You don’t ask for much, do you?”_ He paused before turning serious. “ _I have read more tomes in the libraries of Asgard than perhaps any other with magic, and yet there are few manuscripts which broach this subject._ ” He curled his lip, as if deciding whether or not to go on. _“However, I once met a..._ lord _, I will call him. A lord disguised as a commoner, travelling the realm of fire whilst it and its stars burned, the cascade of fire licking at us like the poisonous tongues of many snakes. We could have turned to ash and stone, but stood there conversing as if we had all the time in the world. He told me that time could be re-written, but not all of it. The majority of events were malleable but some things were fixed. The universe would try to correct for itself so that those events would always happen, often at a great and destructive cost. He said he could feel which was which. Upon my inquiry, he explained that it was a gift, or a curse, bestowed upon his people, but not a skill to be learned. Still, I should have liked to travel with him. I regret passing up the opportunity._ ”

This was the last footage on the camera. Bruce shut it off with a _snick_ , and Tony leaned back in his chair, processing the implications.

“This is good,” Jane was the first to speak. “It confirms what we already suspected. Changing events in time, influencing the time stream, does, for the most part, create a butterfly-effect that could significantly alter events. And it sounds like anything really significant, like a war or the death of a star or something, is bound to happen anyway, only with a lot more suffering and grief for all those involved. So we continue to operate under our original parameters as before.”

Tony and Bruce agreed readily. If the majority of time could be re-written, they needed to be very careful not to give away too much information about the future, and Howard especially needed to not act on any new information he might come across, like the electronics tech that was ubiquitous to everyday life in the twenty-first century.

“And there’s one more thing this proves,” Jane added. Bruce looked at her expectantly and she added, “We _are_ looking at five dimensions.”

 

The implications of that were _huge_. It confirmed the Kaluza-Klein theory, gave them a whole new set of equations to work with, and unfortunately, meant that they were going to have to build their wormhole from the bottom-up. Selvig’s wormhole was designed only to operate through space, and it used the traditional 4-dimensional space-time set-up to derive its equations. Bruce, Jane, and Tony were going to have to re-engineer a large chunk of them to accommodate the extra dimension.

For the next few days, they worked on the problem diligently in Howard’s absence. Howard sent word that he and Natasha were on a hot streak in their research and needed the time for his SHIELD project. That was fine with Tony. Things went smoother in the lab when only one Stark was present.

Four days after Thor had returned, the Avengers were called away for an incident on the Upper West Side near Central Park.

Some hare-brained idiot who called himself Dr. Doom had released a collection of murderous robots onto the unsuspecting citizens of New York and the Avengers were the closest and best equipped team to handle it.

The fight was relatively simple as these things go, and the news crews didn't get there until the fight was more or less over. Tony figured out early on that the "Doombots" could easily be disabled by a well placed repulsor blast (or an exploding arrow or a nice super soldier-strength punch) to the joint connecting the head to the rest of the body. It was more that there were a _lot_ of them, so taking them all down took some time, and with the Avengers held up by the bots, Dr. Doom had escaped to live another day.

The other unfortunate downside was that mindless automatons were _really good_ at being destructive. There was going to be some major cleaning up in Central Park, and Tony figured that the Avengers would be called back in a few days for the heavy lifting, but not before Tony fixed the newly made chinks in his armor.

The robots hadn't done too much damage, but just enough to be an annoyance, and to keep the Iron Man suit out of commission until he could fix it. A joint connection in his right shoulder wasn't working right so he couldn’t move it, the armor on his left kneecap needed to be replaced, and one of the flight stabilizers had to be fixed so he had to hop a ride back in the quinjet.

The team headed straight to the Triskelion for a debrief with Coulson, and got home a little bit just before dinner. Tony took the liberty of ordering Chinese (well, Tony took the liberty of asking JARVIS to order Chinese, " _the usual, JARVIS_ ") before heading straight for a nice, hot shower. It would have been a nicer, hotter shower with Steve there but it probably wasn't worth the risk and all that. As luck had it, after he toweled dry and made his way to the kitchen, Steve was there by himself, putting out plates on the table. His hair was damp from a shower and the white t-shirt he wore clung to him like a wet suit.

It was one of Tony's favorites on Steve and he made sure to check that he hadn't accidentally been drooling on himself before he walked over to surprise-kiss his very own super soldier. “Have I ever told you how much I like that t-shirt of yours?”

“Only every time I wear it,” Steve blushed.

“Oh no, don't you act like you have no idea what I'm talking about. It's practically a _crime_ for you to be wearing it when my dad is around here and you know I shouldn't be in the kitchen doing this—” he caught Steve's ear in his lips and sucked gently, “—or this—” Tony left a trail of kisses on Steve's jawline, “—or this,” Tony was about to lift Steve's t-shirt up and start planting kisses on his abdomen, but Steve caught his hands, stilling him.

“Tony!” he hissed. “We shouldn't be doing this here.”

Tony groaned. “Why does this _always_ happen in the kitchen? Is this because of Dad? C'mon Steve...”

“The team will be here in a minute or two and I don't think we need to traumatize Clint, or anyone else, more than we have in the past.”

“That was totally his own fault,” Tony protested. “He was asking for it, wandering in here for a 'midnight snack.' That'll teach him not to stock his own fridge!”

Steve gave Tony a quick peck on his cheek as he let Tony go. “Has Howard talked to you recently?”

“What? No, I haven’t seen Dad for days. He said he was busy at the Triskelion.”

“That _idiot_ , I told him to talk to you,” Steve gave a long-suffering sigh, irritation showing in the set of his jaw. Just as Tony was going to ask, ‘ _About what?_ ’ Steve explained, “Howard knows about us.”

“He _what_?” Tony looked frantic. “Steve, please tell me you don't mean what I think you mean.” He stared at Steve and after a beat went into full-on panic mode. “How long has he known? When did he find _out_? I guess I should expect another argument with him, soon, huh?” He was babbling now, agitated and jerky with his gestures. “Great. This is just _great_! Exactly what I need to end my day after destroying robots in the park!”

"Hey, hey, stop that," Steve caught his hands again, forcing Tony to still. “He doesn’t mind, Tony.”

“He's such a—” Tony cut off whatever unflattering comment he was going to make about his dad. “Wait, what? Did you just say ‘ _he doesn’t mind’_?”

“Yeah. He brought it up with me first, yesterday,” Steve explained. “Do you remember the other morning when we made waffles?"

Oh yeah, Tony remembered alright. He remembered being _cock blocked_ by his own dad, first thing in the morning.

“Well, he saw us kissing, and uh, made sure the second time he walked in was a lot louder.”

Tony blinked. “I’m still stuck on the part where he _didn’t_ fly into a raging fit and shout at me for corrupting Captain America. Or make it known that he thinks I’m a _deviant_ and a _failure_ as a Stark!”

“Don’t talk like that,” Steve said a little sternly. “You’re not a deviant _or_ a failure.”

“I know, but _he_ doesn’t think so. I’m pretty sure he’s never said anything good about me.”

“That’s not true, and Howard doesn’t think you’re a failure either. I can think of plenty of good things he’s said about you, like that time that you—well, actually, he should be the one to tell you those.” Steve shook himself, “What I meant to say is, he talked to Thor—who had some surprisingly helpful insight on same-sex couples, according to Howard—and took a few days to think it over. He came to me to say he’s _okay_ with it, Tony.”

“Really? He didn’t insult you? He didn’t say something awful?” Tony looked like he could hardly believe that, mostly because he couldn’t.

“Nope. Well, he did say if I broke your heart, he’d make my life hell, but that’s it.”

“He really said that?”

Steve said mock-thoughtfully, “I think what he actually said was, ‘Captain America or not, if you hurt my son, I’ll go back to 1983 and make sure your re-awakening from cryo is so painful, _Project Rebirth_ will feel like a walk in the park.’” Steve looked like he was wavering between amused and genuinely worried by Howard’s threat.

“You’re lying.”

“Why would I make that up?”

Tony fell silent, unable to come up with a sufficient answer. And wasn’t it just peachy, out of all the things his father could possibly say to send Tony reeling, _that_ was what did him in? Tony would have been the last person in the world to put money on ' _Howard Stark, overprotective father_ ’ (and with good reason. Spoiler: Howard never gave a damn about Tony’s personal life). The fact that his warning was aimed at his son’s very male partner who was _Captain America,_ Howard’s personal wartime hero, was the real kicker. There were so many things wrong with this that Tony felt like he was a little plastic figure in a snowglobe and someone was having a grand old time shaking his world upside down. He scrubbed his face, suddenly feeling tired. He almost wanted to go lay down, but then Bruce came in with the bags of take-out after having paid the delivery man (with Tony’s credit card), assisted by Clint and Thor, and he remembered how hungry he was.

Dinner was fine—Howard was conspicuously absent—and they settled on watching _Wall-E,_ a story about cute robots, very much unlike the violent killing machines they had battled that day. After sitting on a couch for two hours, Tony wasn’t tired. When the others picked up and said good night before heading off for their apartments, Tony went down to his workshop to start repairs on the Iron Man armor. It wouldn’t take long, just a few hours tops, and then he’d think about heading upstairs.

He was tackling the problem with the flight stabilizer first when JARVIS interrupted him. “Sir, your father is requesting permission to access the workshop.”

Tony almost denied the request, but then he looked up and saw not just his dad, but _Steve_ , waiting at the workshop entrance beyond the glass wall. Steve waved a little too enthusiastically and gestured to Howard. Whoever said Captain America was never underhanded or sneaky had clearly never met him. Tony had to hand it to him. Steve knew full well that Tony wouldn’t turn down the request if he was the one asking.

Rolling his eyes at Steve, he told JARVIS, “Access granted. He can come in. But just this once!” Tony’s eyes were still on Steve as the glass door unlocked and Howard came in. Steve mouthed something like “ _Thank you_ ,” before turning around and heading back to the elevator. “ _Traitor_ ,” Tony mouthed back, not really meaning it. It still didn’t mean he was looking forward to this conversation.

Howard walked in carefully, hands in his pockets as he looked at the projects and tools scattered around the workshop. “Tony. Could I, uh, talk to you for a second?”

“You’re talking to me now,” he shot back, monotone. Great. His dad already had him on the defensive and all he’d done was walk in. Couldn’t Steve see that _this_ was why he didn’t get along with his father?

Howard looked mildly surprised by Tony’s blunt attitude but went on, “I know you’ve heard this from Steve, but he said it would be a good idea if I came down here to tell you myself and—do you mind if I sit down?”

Yes, he did mind, but he kept the thought to himself, instead gesturing to a nearby stool.

Howard took a deep breath and blurted, “I know about your relationship with Steve. He said you two hid it from me because you were afraid of my reaction. I want... I want you to know I am not angry or disgusted or disappointed or...” he faltered, an uncertain look in his eye.

“Because that was really convincing,” Tony’s eyebrows were practically up to his hairline.

Howard shook his head. “I’m _not_ ,” he said more emphatically this time. “I was surprised, that’s all. You have to remember, where I’m from you’re _thirteen_ , Tony, and the biggest love of your life is robots. I hadn’t even _thought_ about your sexuality before this week.”

Well he wasn’t wrong there. Frankly, Tony was surprised his dad even knew he was interested in robots at that age. It seemed like he never paid attention.

“You forget too, that in 1983, society’s attitude toward anything that deviated from strict heterosexuality was very different than now. Now, I don’t hold that attitude, but I didn’t want—that is, I was thinking about you as a thirteen-year-old. Where I’m from, your life is already going to be difficult as the successor to Stark Industries, to my legacy, and I didn’t want this to make it more difficult for you. But I talked to your friend, Thor, and now I know it’s not like that anymore. I’m _happy_ society has changed, that this part of your life is better than what I feared it would be. I just needed time to process it. But I’m not mad and I’m not disappointed with you, I promise.”

“You’re not going to go back to 1983 and write me out of your will, are you?” Tony eyed him suspiciously. It had to be a trap of some kind. It couldn’t be this simple, could it?

“Jesus, Tony!  Of course not! You’re still my son, and a Stark, and you will _always_ be my son, no matter what.”

This... this was not the reaction Tony had been expecting. He willed it to be true and not a cruel figment of his imagination.

His father said casually, “And as choices go, I think you made a good one. Steve is a good man.” There was a pause before Howard went on, “Does he... make you happy?”

“What?” Tony blurted out. This conversation was covering all sorts of new territories, first coming out to his dad and now his feelings.

“Steve. Does being with him make you happy, Tony?” Howard asked it earnestly, like he really cared about the answer, about Tony’s wellbeing. Well, that was new.

“I—Yes. Yes, it does.”

“Good. I’m glad. I want you to be happy, Tony. I talked to Steve and he said this has been a strain on you, hiding your relationship from me. You don’t have to do that anymore, alright? I can handle a little PDA in the kitchen and I expect both of you want to get back to sleeping in the same bed.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Tony said quietly, reeling a bit from everything his dad had said. Still, it felt like a weight had been lifted from Tony’s chest, knowing that he and Steve didn’t have to sneak around anymore, and that he could finally sleep a full night again with Steve curled up next to him.

“Besides, where do you think you got it from?” Howard said it playfully, a warmth to his voice.

“You?” Tony blurted again, wondering when he’d entered the Twilight Zone. This conversation was getting weirder and weirder by the minute.

“No kidding, _yes me_ ,” Howard huffed.

“But you’re... and Mom...”

“I do read the newspapers. I know you used to date your CEO, Ms. Potts. You’re not the only one who likes the ladies and the gents. Thinking back on it, I shouldn’t have been that surprised after all.”

“Right,” Tony sounded faint, even to his own ears. His whole image of his father was slowly being re-written, one revelation at a time.

When Tony didn’t say anything more, Howard gestured to the armor he had on the bench. “What are you working on?”

“Oh, just fixing a few scrapes in the armor after today’s fight. The kneecap came off and I’m patching up the flight stabilizers now.”

“That’s the Iron Man armor, isn’t it? Mind if I take a look?”

Tony nodded and allowed Howard to get a closer look at the suit.

“This is amazing, Tony,” he marveled. “Steve said that you built it yourself with no help. Is that right? That makes it even more impressive to me. You know that, don’t you?” No, Tony didn’t know that until now, but a warm feeling spread through him at hearing his father’s praise.

“What’s this?” Howard pointed to the center of the chest plate, where the light from the arc reactor would shine through.

“It houses the power source for the suit.” Realizing he could show off the arc reactor and the vibranium core he’d re-discovered, Tony reached in through the head opening and popped out the reactor, handing it over to his dad.

“I know this! This is an arc reactor, only you built it... fifty times smaller than the specs I designed for one.  And this,” he popped out the little triangle of vibranium that was the real power source at its core, “What is this?”

“It’s fuel for the arc reactor. Pure vibranium. I synthesized it myself.”

“Pure vibranium? But that’s—” Howards eyes widened as he realized what Tony was saying. “So you found it, the research I left, your _key to the future_. And you synthesized the vibranium yourself.” He whistled appreciatively. “You did it, you really did it!” he let out a whoop of laughter and thumped Tony on the back twice. “If anyone could figure it out, I knew it would be you. You’re a genius, Tony— what am I saying, of course you are, you’re my son! Incredible, just incredible.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Tony swallowed thickly, not used to receiving this much praise from his dad, like, _ever_. “Can you uh, do me a favor though?”

“Anything, what is it?”

“Can you leave your notebooks and schematics for it, and the extra footage from the 1974 Stark Expo advertisement at SHIELD for me? Oh, and leave the Expo model in your office. That’s what I used to figure it out, and I kind of need it to be there to figure out again, so I don’t die of palladium poisoning.”

“Palladium poisoning?” Howard gasped. “You had _palladium_ poisoning? How did you manage that?”

Tony grimaced. “I used to have a piece of shrapnel inches away from tearing my heart apart and I was using the arc reactor as an electromagnet to keep it at bay. I powered it with palladium until I found the vibranium as a replacement. That was before I had surgery to remove the shrapnel. But it was a close call.”

“Of course I’ll leave you the materials! Just let me write it down. Tell me exactly what you need and where I should keep it for you.”

“Yeah, sure. Can we do that after I fix up the suit? Shouldn’t take me long now.”

“Maybe I could help?” Howard suggested, uncertain.

Tony stared at him, surprised. Normally he wouldn’t let anyone else work on the Iron Man Suit, but even he could see Howard’s peace offering for what it was.

“Sure. Something wrong’s with the radial tension in the right shoulder socket and I can’t move the arm when I’m in it. Could you take a look while I repair the flight stabilizers?”

Howard nodded. “Sure. Just let me grab a screwdriver here so I can take a closer look.”

They worked in comfortable silence, occasionally asking a question here or there, or letting out a noise of satisfaction when one part or another was fixed. When it was finished, Tony could honestly say he didn’t even mind his dad being there. He only wished they could have done more of this when he was growing up.


	6. Chapter 6

Things slowly got better after that, but it was an uphill battle nonetheless. Howard didn’t entirely discredit his theories and suggestions in the lab anymore, though a lot of what he said, whether intentionally or unintentionally, came out as backhanded compliments.

Howard might say something like, “That’s a great idea to generate the exotic matter needed _but_ wouldn’t it be easier if we eliminated the need altogether by creating a sinusoidal wormhole?” never mind the fact that a sinusoidal wormhole had serious complications for traversability through the throat and _of course_ Tony had calculated for violating the null energy condition on the modified Selvig design.

Or, “Aren’t you going to use Minkowski space-time for the coordinate projections? You’ve got an extra-dimension you shouldn’t be using there,” which was just patently untrue and insulting, thank you very much. The coordinate system had to be re-tooled in five dimensions to account for the length and width of time, a fact which Howard would have known if he had been there to see the video footage from Asgard instead of at SHIELD headquarters working on Fury’s pet project.

Tony gave him a pointed look each time he said something like that, and to his credit, Howard started catching himself more often, his unnecessary comments coming fewer and far between. As Steve took to pointing out, Howard was trying, so Tony in turn tried not to get too upset. It was progress, at least.

It was about a week after Howard found out about his relationship with Steve, and the end of another trying day of mapping an entire coordinate system for five dimensions, when Tony received a surprise phone call. “Rhodey!” he called out, answering the phone.

“Tony! I’m in town and I’m almost done with the last of my meetings, just got one in the morning. I thought we could catch up before I head back to D.C. tomorrow.”

“ _Yes!_ ” he agreed with relief, “You have no idea how glad I am you’re in town. Weird stuff has been going down and I need you to play the role of sanity. Where are you? I’ll have a driver pick you up.”

“No need, I’m on my way.”

“Okay, I’m ordering 30 pizzas— _JARVIS, order the usual from Nona’s in Brooklyn_ ,” he called to the AI, “—and then you and I are going to play video games until morning.”

“Maybe not _all_ night, I have a teleconference at 0900.”

“Perfect, that’s morning! We can play until then. What’s your ETA?”

“It’s rush hour so maybe about 45 minutes.”

“Because you just had to take a taxi, didn’t you? Do you have the suit with you? Because you could have taken the suit, you know.”

“ _Tony_ ,” Rhodey scolded, but with a fondness in his tone, “The suit isn’t a toy, it’s a job. With great power—”

“—comes great responsibility, yeah yeah yeah. What’s the point of having the armor if you can’t let loose once in a while? You should take a leaf from my book.”

“I’ll be there soon, Tony.”

“I’ll eat all the pizza if you’re not here by the time it comes!” he threatened as his parting shot, and ended the call.

As it happened, Rhodey got to the Tower just as the pizza arrived, and they carried the boxes up to the main floor. Tony wasn’t kidding when he said he ordered 30 pizzas, though they weren’t for just the two of them. It was Avengers bonding night and his turn to cook, meaning that predictably, he had ordered out for the team. Tony _could_ actually cook for himself, and with the help of Steve, he was even beginning to get the hang of making food that wasn’t burnt, but his kitchen skills still merited vast improvement before he could be allowed to cook for the other residents of Stark Tower.

“Rhodey, am I glad to see you,” Tony said as they rode the elevator up. “Listen, I have to tell you this before we get up there.”

“What did you do this time?” Rhodey sighed dramatically, long used to his best friend’s antics.

“I didn’t do anything!” Tony protested. “Why do you and Pepper always assume it’s my fault?”

“Because it usually is?”

“Well I didn’t, not this time.” Tony took a moment to steel himself. He took a deep breath and said in a rush, “Okay. I don’t know how else to say this so here goes: my dad, circa 1983, used Asgardian magic to time travel here but now it’s not working so we have a to build a time machine and send him back.”

Rhodey laughed, “Good one Tony!” When he saw that Tony wasn’t laughing along with him he said, “Wait, you’re serious?”

“Would I really joke about my dad being here? And man, is he driving me _crazy_ ,” Tony said, stepping out of the elevator. He proceeded to tell Rhodey the whole convoluted story, painted Howard’s misdeeds in vivid color, and finished with the awkward conversation they’d had about dating Steve that ended in Tony finding out his father was equal opportunity in bed, “—and now that makes me wonder if he ever had a crush on Steve, given the way he talked about the guy, which is _so_ awkward to think about, you have no idea. It ranks up there with thinking about your parents having sex, Rhodey.”

“Well, look on the bright side, at least he’s supportive of you.” Which was true. Tony had half-expected to be disowned for his sexuality and had half-expected to be disowned for besmirching Captain America’s image, and neither of those things had happened. Rhodey continued, “And besides, it looks like he’s making an effort to do better.”

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s great that he wants to do better, but watching him try is like watching those fainting goats fall over repeatedly. Awkward. I don’t really _get_ where it’s coming from.”

“If you ask me, sounds like Steve’s been working on him.”

“Huh.” Tony knew that Steve and Howard spent a lot of free time together, but it wasn’t like he’d given a lot of thought to what deep conversations went on during that time. The idea of Steve advising Howard on how to be a better parent was... well, not as weird as the idea of Howard having a crush on Steve, so maybe that was okay.

Somewhere along the line, JARVIS had taken the liberty of informing the rest of the team that dinner had arrived, and suddenly everyone seemed to be in the kitchen heading for the pizza boxes. They called out a chorus of “Hey Rhodey!” as they came in, and in the case of Jane and Darcy, Tony introduced him to both women.

Just as it looked like everyone had gotten the first few slices, Steve and Howard walked in. “Good to see you, Colonel Rhodes!” Steve saluted him.

“Likewise, Captain.” Rhodey returned the salute.

“Dad,” Tony said, “this is my best friend Rhodey. We’ve known each other for a long time.” _Play nice, please_ , was the implication.

“Nice to meet you, sir,” Rhodey said, shaking Howard’s hand.

“Good to meet you too, Colonel. Army?” Howard guessed.

“Air Force,” Rhodey corrected.

“I built Rhodey a suit like mine,” Tony told his dad. “War Machine, it’s called. But it’s not as cool as Iron Man.”

“That’s what you think,” Rhodey returned casually, piling a few slices of pizza on his plate. “And you know they re-branded it as Iron Patriot.”

“Hey, I know your log-in buddy, and it doesn’t say Iron Patriot on it.”

Rhodey laughed, sharing the inside joke with Tony while Steve and Howard looked on. Pizza in hand, the four of them sat down at the end of the table and they settled into an easy conversation. Howard asked Rhodey general questions about his time in the air force, how he met Tony, and the like. They even had an animated discussion about piloting, something Howard had always enjoyed himself.

As far as the night went, things weren’t too bad. Howard seemed to like Rhodey, which was more than Tony could say prior to this, given that his dad had never cared to meet his best friend even once before he died. After dinner, his teammates allowed him to duck out of Avengers’ bonding night (ping pong tournament) to play video games with Rhodey, since he was rarely in town.

Rhodey was returning with a six pack from the fridge in Tony’s apartment while Tony rifled through his own games, flashing the boxes at Rhodey in turn.

“I’ve got your standard Mario Kart for the Wii, your classic Mario Kart for N64, WipEout 2048, and Forza Motorsport 6. I’ll even be nice and let you pick first.”

“Motorsport 5,” Rhodey corrected. “There’s only five Forza Motorsport games.”

Tony just wiggled the box at him until he leaned in to get a better look. “Tony,” Rhodey whistled softly, “Is this... how did you _get_ this?”

“Let’s just say I know a guy. It’s still in beta testing so there may be some—” Rhodey tore the box out of his hand and popped the disc in the console faster than Tony could finish, “—bugs in it. Oookay! Guess I know what we’re playing first.”

Playing Motorsport 6 was like being a kid in a virtual candy store. A virtual candy store with some very _very_ sexy cars that looked and handled like the real thing. It reminded Tony of that time he entered a Grand Prix race in Monaco, only without the palladium poisoning and the angry Ivan Vanko. And since Pepper had forbidden Tony from racing any more cars for the sake of his company and his health, this was the next best thing.

Tony and Rhodey played for hours, trying to run the other off the track, trading insults and trading one video game for another. They jostled each other in game and in person, neither afraid to accidentally “elbow” the other as a distraction. Tony brought out a bottle of Scotch and their gameplay got sloppier as they got drunker and drunker. The last thing Tony remembered was roughhousing with Rhodey, trying to pin him down on the carpet while simultaneously mashing the buttons on his controller to trip Rhodey up, before sleep finally claimed him.

When he came to, he was laid out on the floor, a blanket covering him, and the sun was shining through the window.

“JARVIS, time?” he mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“10:43 A.M., sir.”

“JARVIS, where’s Rhodey?”

Before JARVIS could answer, a figure stepped through the doorway from the guest room. “Tony? Are you awake? I just got done with my conference call.”

“Mmm,” Tony nodded sleepily. “This blanket. Did you...”

“That’s all Steve. We both passed out on the floor. I woke up when he came in, went to the guest room. You didn’t and he didn’t want to wake you.”

“Steve. Okay. Coffee.” He yawned his way through the last word.

This time JARVIS answered, “There is coffee waiting for you in the kitchen, sir.” Tony managed to drag himself to the kitchen and fifteen minutes later he was feeling human again. Predictably, that’s when his stomach began to rumble.

“You hungry, Rhodey?”

“Sure, I could eat.”

Tony nodded. “Give me fifteen to shower and change and we’ll go to breakfast. I mean lunch. Brunch. Whatever.”

He managed to get dressed and brush his teeth in record time, and they made their way to a diner not too far away. Tony ordered the greasiest bacon and eggs he could think of, and a stack of pancakes just because he could. Rhodey opted for lunch, ordering a burger and fries for himself. They were just polishing off the last of the food (Tony trying to sneak fries when Rhodey wasn’t looking), when Tony’s communicator and Rhodey’s phone went off simultaneously.

“Stark.” It was Coulson’s voice. “We’ve got Chitauri tech, a private army group, and what look like large, flying lizards in San Francisco. Suit up. SHIELD will have a jet on the roof of Stark Tower in ten minutes.”

“Copy that. Over and out.” Tony looked up at Rhodey, who had just ended his own phone call. “The President tell you to suit up, too?”

“Yeah. San Francisco?”

Tony nodded, sliding out of the seat and pulling out his wallet. He put a $50 bill on the table because he didn’t have anything smaller and said to Rhodey as they walked out, “Come on. The quinjet will be on the roof in ten. We’ll give you a lift.”

The rest of the Avengers were waiting for them on the roof, a SHIELD agent piloting the quinjet as they took off. Even though the jet went at Mach 4, it still took them about 50 minutes to get to San Francisco. The Avengers used the time first to look at footage of the event and get a feel for their opponents, and then to come up with a plan of attack.

Coulson wasn’t kidding when he said the private army was using stolen Chitauri tech, not just the weaponry but the flying vehicles too. But that wasn’t all. From the information coming in to SHIELD headquarters by the minute, they were able to piece together how the group had gotten their hands on biomedical research, injected the lizard test subjects and watched them grow into three huge, flying reptiles, now unleashing havoc on San Francisco. The creatures looked like Godzilla with wings and could only be described as _dragons_ with giant spikes protruding from their backs, though thankfully without the fire breathing. The last creatures Tony had faced off against that were this big were those massive flying Chitauri behemoths that he had one hell of a time taking down in Manhattan. From the looks of things on the news coverage, the military wasn’t having an easy time of the lizards, either.

After the Avengers and Rhodey planned out their strategy, Rhodey was preoccupied for most of the flight, contacting and coordinating different branches of the military to have them evacuate certain areas and fall back once he and the Avengers arrived.

Coming out of the quinjet, they broke into two teams: Cap, Hawkeye, Black Widow, and Thor were tasked with overpowering the private army group (“As many alive as possible,” according to SHIELD and Homeland Security. They wanted to bring them in for questioning and find out who was funding them.), while Iron Man, War Machine (or Iron Patriot, as it were), and the Hulk were assigned to take down the giant lizards.

It wasn’t easy going at first. They didn’t have metal shells protecting them, like the Chitauri creature, but their thick, leathery hides still made them formidable opponents. Tony used up all of his small shoulder missiles in less than a minute, which weakened one creature significantly, but not enough to take it down just yet. The suit’s laser beams were effective in making lacerations and burning flesh, but the red light enraged the lizard even more as it weaved and dodged the light.

For creatures so large and bulky, they were surprisingly deft at maneuvering. As Tony taunted his target to come closer in the hopes of releasing a few repulsor blasts, the creature grabbed a hold of him by the leg, smashing him back and forth against the buildings several times. He felt like a rag doll being waved this way and that, the lizard’s grip on him tight. Seeing him, the Hulk leapt to his rescue, distracting the creature from Tony and then successfully taking it down in its weakened state.

JARVIS told him what the HUD display already showed: most of his weapons were offline, and the metal plating itself was hardly in better shape. Flight power was at 43% and falling. Tony removed himself from the fray momentarily to catch his breath and ascertain that none of his bones were actually broken, even though it felt like the lizard had cracked every single one. He was going to be feeling it tomorrow. Hell, he felt it _now_.

The one thing that seemed to be effective was the cannon blaster on War Machine, but it was proving difficult to use. “They’re moving too fast, it’s hard to get a lock on them!” Rhodey called over the communications channel.

Tony looked down to where the Hulk was trying to engage his next lizardy target. While the lizard could fly, the Hulk was limited in his mobility, relegated to leaping from building to building. But San Francisco was not New York, and there were a lot fewer buildings for the Hulk to use as leverage as the “dragon” flew further out of his reach.

“We need to work together to bring these guys down!” Tony called. “Iron Patriot, you and I will round up the next creature, bring it _to_ the Hulk. I’ll help the Hulk hold it down while you get off a good few rounds.”

Rhodey replied, “Sounds like a plan. Look out, Iron Man, giant lizard at your six o’clock!”

Tony turned around to see it headed straight toward him, and he led it on a merry chase, bringing it ever closer to the Hulk. Rhodey hemmed it in from the top, Tony at the sides, and once it dove close enough for the Hulk to grab hold of it, the lizard was toast. The Hulk pummeled it again and again, and Tony got him to hold it still long enough for Rhodey to place a few well-aimed blasts at its head, the creature collapsing with a thud powerful enough to send up a spray of dirt in its wake.

They had just one left to go, but the sucker was smarter than his compatriots and learned quickly too. Tony tried to lead it to the Hulk, maneuvering this way and that to keep out of its reach. The creature nearly snatched him once or twice. Power in the suit was now at 20% and the propulsion faltered momentarily. He clipped part of the dragon which left him reeling until he could right himself in the air. When they got the lizard to the ground, it thrashed and struggled, even under the hand of the Hulk. As they tried to hold it as steady as possible, the lizard reared up, sending the protruding spikes on its back into the Iron Man armor. Most of it deflected off of him harmlessly—the armor was made of stronger stuff than that—but an unlucky blow saw one of the spikes ram itself between the shoulder and chest plates and dig in, penetrating the Kevlar bodysuit just enough to leave a huge gash in his arm.

Tony cried out in pain, but as the adrenaline kicked in, he and the Hulk managed to get it steady enough for Rhodey to let off another few bursts, with the Hulk delivering the final blow.

“Iron Man, you okay up there?” Cap called through the comm.

“Yeah,” he said, even as he winced in pain. “Lizard caught me in the shoulder. It might need stitches but I’m okay right now. We got them all. How’s everything holding up on your end?”

“Rounding up the last of them. Thor could use a hand with the flying riders.”

“On it.”

“No,” Rhodey called. “I’ll go. You stay here.”

“The Colonel’s right, Iron Man,” Cap said, “See if you can calm the Hulk down, and then get yourselves back on the quinjet. I want that shoulder looked at right away.”

Tony wanted to protest, to say that he could keep fighting, but another burst of pain bloomed brightly as the adrenaline started to fade. “Roger that, Cap.”

Even if his shoulder hadn’t been damaged, Steve probably would have given him the same orders anyway. Tony was the person best equipped to bring the Hulk back down to Bruce Banner-size. They theorized that the Hulk picked up on the close relationship between Tony and Bruce and responded better to Iron Man’s presence. This time, with the area evacuated and no one to fight, it only took fourteen minutes, a record, for the Hulk to become Bruce Banner again. Checking that Bruce was no worse for the wear, Tony flew them back to the quinjet.

Bruce changed into a clean set of clothes while Tony removed as much of his armor around the shoulder as he could; a lot of the mechanisms were jammed. Tony peeled away the Kevlar bodysuit, too, and they both saw the gash underneath. Bruce raised his eyebrows and just barely managed not to gasp.

“Stitches,” he said.

“Stitches,” Tony agreed.

Examining the wound more closely Bruce said, “At least it didn’t hit anything major. It’ll heal up okay.” Bruce worked quickly and quietly, disinfecting the wound before stitching him up. By the time he was finished, the rest of the Avengers and Rhodey had rounded up the last of the fighters and handed them over to the authorities.

Bruce cut off the last of the thread and asked Tony, “Pain on a scale of 1 to 10?”

Tony considered it for a beat, the pain a constant throbbing in his arm. “Eight.”

Bruce handed him two ibuprofen (Vicodin and Oxycodone were reserved for anything above a fifteen on that scale) and Tony downed them gratefully. They listened through the comm. unit as Steve, Clint, Natasha, Thor, and Rhodey coordinated with SHIELD operatives in the area to get the Chitauri tech off the ground. As soon as that was finished, they returned to the quinjet.

Steve went to Tony immediately, surveying the damage as Bruce gave him a rundown of Tony’s injuries. Steve pursed his lips together but said nothing, turning to Bruce. “What about yourself? You okay?” They both knew that the Hulk was rarely injured by, well, anything, but Steve always asked, every time.

Bruce was fine, and as the quinjet took off for the east coast again, he saw to the team’s injuries. Most of them were superficial, with the exception of Clint’s sprained wrist. Since they weren’t racing to the scene of an invasion this time, the jet cruised at around Mach 2, which gave them plenty of time to debrief with Fury and Coulson via satellite. Somewhere around Pennsylvania, Rhodey said his goodbyes and took off from the plane, explaining that he had his own debriefing to get to in D.C.

When they got back to the Tower, all Tony wanted to do was take a shower and then maybe a nap, but the pain kept at him, so he rummaged through his fridge, looking for an ice pack. When he couldn’t find one, he headed down to the main kitchen. Tony was having rotten luck today, because Howard was waiting for him when he got there, and he didn’t look happy.

“What the hell do you think were you doing out there!?” was the first thing that came out of Howard’s mouth. He practically spat the words, an angry expression in his eyes and a condescending sneer on his face.

“Gee, I don’t know, _Dad_. Saving San Francisco from wanton destruction, maybe?” He returned sarcastically. Tony pushed past Howard, heading for the fridge. If his dad was going to get into this, he at least wanted the ice he came for.

“Oh yeah? That’s not what I saw on the news!” Howard crossed his arms, visibly angry with Tony. “It looked to me like you were getting beaten to a pulp! And by what? A _lizard_? A stupid beast with nothing more than an animal instinct! When Steve said he let you on his team, I thought you’d be _better_ than that.”

Tony flinched. Ouch. His dad might be wrong about who asked Tony to be on the Avengers, but those words still stung. Tony felt himself going on the defensive as he countered, “Yes, it was a lizard! A biologically enhanced lizard the size of Godzilla, complete with wings and the back of a porcupine! What did you want me to do? We took them all down, didn’t we?”

“Oh yes, and it took all three of you, didn’t it? Couldn’t do it on your own, could you? And even then! All I saw was a great, thorny monster pricking you like a pincushion! What good is Iron Man if his armor can’t even protect him against a simple threat like that one?”

As if giant lizards were so simple to fight. “It was one time! And why do you even care anyways? What’s it to you, huh?”

Howard side-stepped the question, laying into him. He narrowed his eyes and hissed, “You’re _weak_. The Iron Man is weak if it can’t withstand something like this. What good is the suit if it cannot hold up in a fight! Your armor is trashed. Iron Man is _worthless_!”

Tony felt like he’d been slapped, even though his dad hadn’t moved an inch closer. He didn’t know why; goodness knew his dad had thrown similar insults at him when he was younger. Still, maybe it was because he thought things had been going well—his dad approved of him dating Steve, and they’d been getting along better in the lab recently—but he couldn’t even form a coherent response, frozen to the spot in shock. He felt like a child all over again, subject to the cruel expectations of a father who didn’t even _like_ him, let alone love him. When he finally came back to himself, he noticed his teammates standing awkwardly by the elevator, which only made his humiliation feel ten times worse. How long had they been standing there? How much had they heard?

He pushed past them, not meeting anyone’s eyes. He called the elevator and the doors opened immediately. “Tony...” Steve called after him, uncertain.

“No.” He shrugged off Cap’s hand on his good shoulder and stepped into the elevator. “Please. Please, just. Don’t.” Too busy staring at the floor as the doors closed, he completely missed the looks of disgust his teammates gave Howard—the flash of anger from Thor, the steely twin glares from Clint and Natasha, the reproachful gaze of Bruce, and the hurt, disappointed, and angry look from Steve as he, too, swept past Howard without so much as another word.

 

Tony retreated to his workshop, locking the door behind him and darkening all the windows so that he could see out but no one could see in. “JARVIS, initiate Protocol 4980. Put the workshop on lockdown. Nobody comes in here, not even Steve, unless I’m dying.”

He went into the very back room of the workshop, which served as a miniature apartment, or in this case, a hide-out space. It was equipped with a bathroom, fully-stocked kitchenette, mini-bar, and a spare change of clothes stowed away in a drawer.

After showering and changing his clothes, Tony broke out the bottle of Jack and carried it straight to the day bed currently functioning as a couch. Of course, it was around this time that Steve began knocking on his workshop door, asking again and again for Tony to let him in. Normally, Tony would go to Steve or Pepper or Rhodey if he was upset but this... this was different. He wanted to be alone for once and told Steve so through the intercom, sending him away with a promise that they’d talk tomorrow.

Tony had JARVIS turn the music up so loud it was almost deafening, but instead of losing himself in the music, he found himself tuning it out, replaying the conversation in his mind over and over again.

Logically, Tony knew that he wasn’t to blame; getting caught while rounding up a lizard had been an accident and there was absolutely nothing he could have done about the spike catching him in the exact spot between the plates in his armor. But it didn’t make him feel better in the slightest. He felt as awful as the words his dad had used to describe him today, words he’d used before toward Tony. Weak. Useless. _Worthless_. Because that was the truth of it, right? Growing up, his own dad had made him feel worthless on a predictable, though not constant basis. Howard was frequently too busy to spend time with him, and when he did, it was rarely to praise Tony, never to show affection or love, and often to criticize him.

Looking back on his childhood, Tony could remember more Christmases and birthdays without his old man than with him. Always busy with the next Stark Industries project, his dad cancelled on so many of Tony’s science fairs that he stopped expecting Howard to show up at all. And he was pretty sure his dad had never actually seen his boarding school in person, relying on Tony’s mom’s report of it before shipping Tony off at only nine years old without so much as a goodbye.

On top of that, it was frustrating that his dad expected Tony to excel in everything he did, whether it was French classes or quantum physics or advanced computer programming. He expected perfection and only showed a modicum of praise when Tony met his expectations. Those rare moments of recognition he could remember perfectly because there were so few of them: a genuine smile and an affectionate ruffling of hair, a “Good job, Tony,” and just once or twice when he’d graduated college, an “I’m proud of you,” written in a card, since Howard couldn’t actually be bothered to attend his graduations.

Howard only showed love or affection when Tony met his impossible expectations, and since Tony didn’t measure up very often, it wasn’t hard to realize that Howard didn’t love him _or_ like him. And so, by the age of fifteen, Tony had stopped caring about his father’s approval. He’d finally wised up and focused his efforts on other things, things that made _him_ happy. At first that had just been developing robotics and artificial intelligence systems, and later it was partying, alcohol, and sex, so caught up in his playboy lifestyle that he’d fucked up royally and let Obadiah subvert the company right under his nose.

Dummy rolled his way over to Tony, nudging him with the end of his claw. Tony reached out to pet his support strut.

“Good boy,” he said, his voice wobbly but with noted affection. Dummy just leaned in further, letting Tony pet him as he drank his way through the bottle of Jack. Eventually, he lifted it to his lips and emptied it of its last drops.

Standing up, he grabbed another bottle from the minibar and went over to a workbench, pulling out circuitry scraps, fiddling with some wiring, and opening up a coding editor on his monitor. Tony passed the time building god knows what, using it as a distraction from his thoughts, although the alcohol fulfilled most of that function. 

Tony wasn’t at all surprised when he passed out around seven in the morning and woke up around four in the afternoon with a throbbing hangover and a roiling stomach.  By some miracle, Dummy and JARVIS managed to make him a cup of coffee without spilling it, or more importantly for Dummy, poisoning it.

After making himself mostly-burnt eggs and splashing his face with water (and miraculously not throwing up any of those eggs), Tony pushed all thoughts of Howard from his mind for the time being and got to work surveying the damage on his Iron Man suit. Most of it wasn’t salvageable. He would have to re-cut the majority of the pieces and re-do the wiring. A lot of it could be done by the special machines he had automated for the job, but some of the more recent upgrades weren’t programmed in yet, and he wanted to add a few himself.

He was inputting the programming that would tell the machines how to add the latest upgrades when JARVIS alerted him, “Sir, Mr. Howard Stark is requesting access to the workshop.”

Tony stilled. For a very long five minutes he considered denying Howard access; Tony certainly didn’t want to see him and it would serve his dad right to be denied just once, after all these years of ignoring Tony. In the end he asked JARVIS, “What does he want?”

There was a wait as JARVIS relayed the message and spoke again with an answer, “He expressed his wish to make amends for his earlier behaviour.”

With a great sigh and a feeling he was going to regret this, Tony relented. “Let him in.”

Howard walked in cautiously, like he was walking on eggshells, and Tony supposed it was true in a figurative sense. “Hi,” he said in a small voice.

“Steve send you?” Tony questioned with a little more than a bit of irritation.

Howard shook his head. “No. He’s, ah, not speaking to me. Actually, none of your friends are.”

“Then you’re only down here to apologize so they’ll stop ignoring you, is that it?”

“No! That’s not what I meant,” Howard cried. “That’s not why I’m down here. I... I hurt you, and you deserve an apology.” He opened and closed his mouth several times, deciding where to start. “JARVIS showed me the footage of myself from yesterday. I know I screwed up, badly.” Well wasn’t that the understatement of the century?

Tony waited for him to continue, hoping that whatever he had to say next was really good.

Howard pushed on, “I haven’t been a good father to you, not here in this time or where I came from.” He faltered, licking and biting his lips nervously for something to do, searching for the right words. “My father... your grandfather... he... he did the same thing to me that I did to you. He belittled me. He told me that _I_ was weak, that _I_ was worthless, and that _I_ would amount to nothing, unworthy of carrying on the Stark legacy. He used to pit your Uncle Eddie and I against each other, make us compete in everything. Waiting, I think, to see if one of us would devour the other, like scorpions trapped in a glass jar. Eventually Eddie left. He didn’t want any part in Dad’s games and he handed me his share of the company.

“This... this is _not_ an excuse for what I did to you, for how I treated you. If anything, I should have done better than him, but I didn’t, and I am _sorry_ , Tony. Until Steve and Pepper and JARVIS, your JARVIS, I don’t think I realized how much I really hurt you. But I’m going to get better, Tony, I swear it on my own company, I will. I want to try again, in earnest this time, if you’ll let me.”

Howard looked at him expectantly and Tony found himself wondering if he could believe it, if his dad really meant any of it, if he dared to hope it was true. Did he really believe his dad would change? Well, he could pretend, just for a moment. Tony nodded mutely, not trusting himself to speak.

“You know, I was out getting lunch earlier when I ran into Ms. Potts and she, well, she took pity on me I guess, and we got to talking. Toward the end, she showed me the video of you fighting in New York two years ago.”

“She wasn’t supposed to show you that,” Tony objected. While Howard knew about the invasion in general terms, the actual battle, including the nuclear warhead and Tony’s trip with it to another dimension, was strictly on the “Howard-Stark-Does-Not-Need-To-Know-the-Details-of-the-Future List.”

“Don’t be mad at her, she was trying to help,” Howard said. “I watched as you took a nuclear missile—a _nuclear missile_ , Tony!—and launched it into another dimension, knowing full well that you might not come back. My heart nearly stopped when you disappeared into that wormhole, and I realized how _close_ I had come to losing my son before I was supposed to meet him in this time. It was the same feeling I had yesterday, watching you fight those lizards on the news coverage. And instead of supporting you, instead of being there for you yesterday, I let my fear turn ugly. I lashed out because I was _scared_. Scared because there was a real possibility of you dying on that mission and I was scared knowing it could happen on any mission in the future.”

“I think there was more chance of that with the nuke than the lizard,” Tony mumbled.

“Yeah,” he exhaled. “Believe me, watching you disappear into another dimension put the whole lizard thing into perspective. I guess this is my obligatory, ‘Be careful, son,’ because I _do_ care and I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you. I realize now that what happened during the fight yesterday wasn’t your fault. And despite the damage to it, the suit did a pretty good job.”

Howard paused and took a deep breath before he continued. “When I think about the Iron Man suit you made, or the vibranium you synthesized _in your basement_ , or the energy powering this building, I am in _awe_ of what you have accomplished. You’ve achieved everything I hoped to but never could, and then some. You have grown up to be a better man than I was. But I’m not just talking about the tech. Do you know why I started SHIELD, what I meant it for? To keep the peace. To save lives. And that day in New York? You made the choice to sacrifice yourself for _eight million_ people. And you still put yourself in danger to save lives every day. I could not ask for a better son than you.”

He paused. His voice was choked with emotion and when he looked at Tony with all the love and affection Tony had never received before, it was through watery eyes.

“Tony, I am so, so _proud_ of you.”

Howard opened his arms wide and before Tony knew what he was doing, he felt himself moving forward, his dad holding him close. Tony slowly brought his arms up, returning the gesture. 

And then, his dad said something Tony hadn’t heard in over forty years.

“I love you, son.”

Tony would deny it later, but his voice wobbled, too, as he returned the words he hadn’t said in over forty years.

“I love you too, Dad.”


	7. Chapter 7

The last time the Iron Man armor looked this bad (not counting Tony’s run-in with AIM and Killian, since he had purposely destroyed the armors that time) was after he’d sent a nuclear missile into another dimension and almost died because the suit gave out on him. The armor was completely trashed from the fight in San Francisco and he was going to have to re-build it from scratch.

He had a couple of older models on back-up, but they didn’t have some of the newer upgrades, like the back-up propulsion system that proved helpful in San Francisco. During the debriefing, it was decided that Tony would take a few days from the time travel project to repair the armor, in case another incident needing the Avengers broke out sooner rather than later.

Since talking things through with his dad yesterday, Tony hadn’t seen Howard, too raw with emotion to really be talking to anyone else. For the past thirty some-odd years, Tony had tried to convince himself that he didn’t need any approval or love from his father, while secretly feeling incomplete for never having heard it. Tony had waited his whole life for his dad to say “I’m proud of you” and “I love you, son,” and now that he had, Tony didn’t know what to do with it. It certainly didn’t erase years of neglect, but it was a start to healing a wound that had never fully scabbed over.

Tony was in his workshop, pulling up specs for the upgrades he wanted to make when a tap on the glass made him look up. He was surprised to see his father waiting there patiently for permission to enter. With a cue to JARVIS, the door lock released and Howard stepped into Tony’s workshop.

“What are you doing here, Dad?” Tony asked, somewhat baffled but not unkindly. “I thought you would be upstairs with Bruce and Jane.”

Howard said, “Ah, they wanted to work on a side project for Thor’s Rainbow Bridge, something to do with self-perpetuating crystals. I came down here to see how you were doing, after the last couple days we’ve had.”

Tony was so startled by the statement all he did was blink and stare as his mind tried to process the information. His dad _never_ wanted to know the status of Tony’s wellbeing and the idea of it was completely foreign to him.

Perhaps sensing his discomfort, Howard carefully shifted the conversation to another topic. “I mean, how is the new the armor coming along?”

That, at least, was something Tony could answer. “On schedule. My machines are cutting out and assembling the base parts as we speak,” Tony gestured to a few machines behind him cutting metal with a laser precision cutter in the pre-determined shapes he had programmed for it. “Once the base work is finished, I’ll start adding the new upgrades. It should be finished by tomorrow.”

“Need a hand?” Howard asked. “I’d like to help, if you want me to.”

 _I’d like to help if you want me to_. The words echoed in Tony’s mind. Again, the entire idea of it was foreign to him. This wasn’t just an olive branch or a peace offering to make up for their argument. It was... well, Tony wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but it sounded a lot like Howard trying to be a better parent which was unfamiliar, surprising, and heartening all at the same time.

Tony considered Howard’s offer for a long minute before he said, “Sure, but on one condition.”

“Okay,” Howard nodded for him to go on.

“This is _my_ suit. _Mine_. Not yours. You can help with the upgrades but it’s my project and you have to take direction from me. No criticizing the tech, no backhanded comments, and no unfeasible suggestions. I just want you to make the upgrades I ask you to. Think you can handle that?” The problem with Howard’s parenting was that he was always pushing Tony to do something more, implying that what he had already done wasn’t good enough, and he often said so with not nice words. If Howard was going to turn over a new leaf with Tony, he had to learn when to back off.

Howard nodded again, this time in understanding. “Of course. I hear you loud and clear.”

Tony gave him a hard stare, making sure Howard got the message. He relented, “Okay, come over here. Let me show you how to run with the holographic projection system and interpret the design scans I’ve got going.”

 

They had been working on the suit in relative peace a quiet for nearly an hour before Tony started to get antsy. There was still an uneasy tension between the two of them that Tony was eager to relieve. So he did the only thing he knew how to in this situation. He started talking.

“Hey Dad?”

Howard looked up and suddenly having his full attention for the first time he could remember, Tony almost faltered. “So uh, what was it like working for the SSR during the war?" Howard had certainly told many stories about Captain America's adventures while Tony was growing up. First as bedtime stories when Tony was younger, and then as examples of virtue for Tony to live up to, but unless they were directly related to Captain America, they were never really about what Howard had done. It was something he rarely talked about and Tony had always wanted to know more.

"What do you want to know?" Howard asked, before returning to the piece he was wiring.

"Anything, really," Tony walked around to another workbench to grab a wrench. "What was Project Rebirth like?”

Howard paused thoughtfully before he said, "Initially I worked with Dr. Erskine on the Super Soldier Serum. He never did give me the complete formula, but I had enough information to build the vita-ray machine." Howard gave a wry twist of his mouth, remembering something. "You know, half-way through the procedure Steve started shouting in pain. Your Aunt Peggy ordered me to shut down the machine, but Steve protested. Said he wanted to keep going. Well, I was so nervous and eager to get it over with, I cranked up the last of the vita-ray’s power instantly, instead of gradually like I should have, and I fried all the circuits. Later, I was told we had dimmed all of the lights in Brooklyn, diverting that much power."

Tony smiled and then asked, "What was Erskine like?"

"Kind," was the first word Howard brought to mind. "Smart. I was twenty-four and just a few years out of college. I didn't know a lot about business or navigating the military bureaucracy yet. He knew what it was like from his time in Germany, and gave me a lot of good advice. He was a good man. Steve and I were both sad when he died. I snuck Steve out to a pub that night and we drank to Dr. Erskine until I had to leave for London. Of course, that's when we first realized Steve couldn't get drunk, so it was a double downer for him."

"I take it you and Steve were close from the beginning?" Tony prompted.

Howard shook his head. “After Project Rebirth, they shipped me off to Europe with the rest of the SSR. I didn’t see Steve for months, not until his USO tour came to Europe and Peggy said he needed a favor. He and I got close after Captain America was assigned to the front line and I was tasked with outfitting him and his men, the Howling Commandos. Naturally Steve spent more time with his team in the field, but when they were on base, we usually drank or played cards together. Actually,” Howard paused for dramatic effect, a ghost of a smirk playing around his lips, “I used to give him a lot of romantic advice."

Tony burst out laughing, which was the exact moment that Steve himself appeared in the doorway, a sketchbook and a tin of charcoals in hand. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence for Tony, who often appreciated Steve’s quiet company in the workshop. But Steve looked uncertain today by the presence of Howard, perhaps not sure if he was intruding on a private father-son moment.

“Am I interrupting?” Steve asked cautiously, ready to leave and give the two mechanics their space back.

“Not at all,” Tony grinned, actually thankful and hoping that Steve’s presence would dissipate the remaining tension in the room. He gestured for Steve to come in. “We were just talking about you.”

“Oh?” Steve asked as he sat down at his usual drawing table.

Howard grinned, “I was just getting ready to tell Tony about the time Peggy shot at you.”

“Oh, no! Howard, please!” Steve looked embarrassed and his cheeks reddened.

Tony just cackled. “Now you _have_ to tell me. Come on, _Dad_ ,” he wheedled.

“Alright, alright. Well, your Aunt Peggy and Steve were sweet on each other since the day they met, but of course they wouldn’t admit as much. And then, one day when we were on base, Peggy caught Steve kissing another woman silly in a dark corner, a Private Louise? Loretta?”

“Lorraine,” Steve supplied, monotone. “And for the record, _she_ kissed me.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure you didn’t kiss back at all.” Turning back to Tony he continued, “Peggy was none too happy about it. After she caught him, Steve and I were scheduled to go over uniform specifications and different shield options. Steve had just picked up the vibranium model when Peggy walked in and fired four shots straight at the shield before walking out again. Cap was in the doghouse for days after that." He laughed, with Tony grinning along.

Steve held his head in his hands, embarrassed, and then he protested, “How was I supposed to know she was sweet on me? I thought you and Peggy were...” he waved an arm in an attempt to explain himself.

“...Fondue-ing?” Howard supplied, suggestively.

“Fondue-ing?” Tony repeated, laughing. “Oh my God. Really, Cap?”

“You were not just asking her to grab some cheese and bread with you, Howard,” Steve accused.

Howard shrugged but didn’t deny it. “Easy come, easy go. Besides, I backed off once I realized the two of you were smitten, didn’t I?” Tony was still over in the corner, trying and failing to hide his laughter. Howard turned to him and said teasingly, “You know, Steve’s not the only one here I have embarrassing stories about.”

Tony’s immediate reaction was to think, ‘ _I doubt that, since you were never around_ ,’ but they were joking around, and if Howard wanted to try this father-son thing, he would put in the effort too. So instead Tony said, “Oh really? Like what?”

“Halloween, 1976,” Howard declared smugly.

Tony tried to think what he could have possibly dressed up as for Halloween as a six year old that was so embarrassing but he didn’t remember that far back. Hell, he couldn’t remember what he had for breakfast that morning.

Another grin appeared on Howard’s face. “You dressed up as none other than _Captain America_ himself, complete with a replica shield that I helped you build.”

“Oh ho!” Steve guffawed, laughing now that it was Tony’s turn to look embarrassed.

 _Now_ Tony remembered. He remembered trying to figure out a way to get his father’s attention. Realizing that Captain America was the connecting factor, he had announced his intention to dress up as the superhero for the holiday. He had to say, it wasn’t a bad ploy either. He got to spend time with his dad, after all.

“And it was not just the costume _or_ the shield,” Howard continued, “but the song, too. Tony memorized and sang the whole thing, everywhere he could.”

“I did not!” Tony protested, even though his dad was completely right. Steve didn’t need to know how much of a huge crush he’d had on Captain America as a kid, especially not now that he was dating the man behind the mask.

“Did so. According to your mother, you led the school Halloween parade with that song. _Who’s strong and brave, here to save the American way?_ ” Howard sang the line in a high-pitched falsetto before breaking off.

“Daaaad! Really?” Tony whined, looking mortified. “Steve really did not need to know that!”

Meanwhile, Steve was still laughing in his chair. He grinned, “Oh, but I did. Little Tony Stark, all dressed up as Captain America—that’s _adorable_ Tony!”

“You’re supposed to be on my side, Steve!” Tony accused.

“Not when it comes to embarrassing baby pictures. I would pay money to see those photos. Besides,” he added, “I am on your side. Why else would I tell you about the time Howard tried to impress a date and blew up his lab instead?”

It was Howard’s turn to look mortified as Steve proceeded to tell the full story, much to Howard’s consternation. The three of them went on like this for a while until their sides hurt from laughing and they gradually sobered up. Eventually, the conversation petered out and all three of them returned to their work, the peaceful silence interspersed with a bit of banter now and then, and the atmosphere feeling much lighter than it had before.

 

Later that evening as Tony and Steve were getting ready for bed, Tony said, “Thanks for coming down to the workshop today. It really helped.”

“Yeah? Things on the up and up with your dad?”

“We’re getting there. Slowly.” Then Tony changed topics, bringing up something that had been niggling at the back of his mind “I didn’t know you and my Aunt Peggy, Agent Carter I mean, were close,” he said, hoping Steve would elaborate.

Tony didn’t talk about his father with Steve, and Steve didn’t talk about the war much. He knew that Captain America had worked with Agent Carter during the war, but the files never said they had a thing for each other. Tony always figured that Steve video-called with Peggy on a regular basis these days because she was the only living person he had from the war. After today, things were starting to make a lot more sense. Did Steve still harbor feelings for Peggy, for the time they had lost while he was asleep in the ice? Feeling insecure, Tony had to know where he stood with Steve now. “Is that why you Skype with her?”

Steve explained, “When I first met Peggy, I was just a little guy, five inches shorter and a hundred pounds lighter. She was one of the few who saw me for who I really was. She was smart, strong, practical, and quick on her feet. Our first day at basic, she decked this recruit; he thought he could bully her because she was a woman. Guess I liked Peggy the minute I saw her.” A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“She was ‘your girl.’” Tony said it questioningly.

“We were together during the war,” Steve confirmed. “But I wouldn’t say she was ‘my girl,’ or anyone’s ‘girl.’ Peggy was her own woman.”

“Do you miss her? I mean, the way she was back then?”

Steve didn’t answer and the silence was heavy between them, filled with Steve’s loss.

Tony pressed on, “Do you ever wish you could see her again? The 1945 Peggy, I mean. Because you know,” he tried to sound casual here, testing the waters, “when we send Howard back, when the portal is finished, we could send you back, too. If you wanted. To Peggy.”

“That’s absurd, Tony. I thought we were in this together. Why would you—what are you tryin’ to say?”

Tony ignored him, “What’s another couple decades back in time? You two could get married, buy a house with a white picket fence, have your two-point-five kids, the whole shebang! Or we could go back and get her to come here. You could show her around, introduce her to the twenty-first century... and _then_ get your house with the white picket fence.” He forced himself to sound casual, glib, like he always was, even though the words ate at him from the inside out.

“We’re not supposed to mess with the past, you know that.” Steve avoided the question like a pro.

“Time can be re-written,” Tony insisted, feeling the knife twist deeper, needing an answer.

“And we don’t know what the consequences could be.” Steve took a step forward and said more softly, “I know what you’re really asking, and the answer isn’t Peggy. Look, I liked guys back then, too, okay? But times were different. You didn’t talk about things like that. And I had Peggy so I put it outta my mind. But Tony? I wouldn’t trade being here with you for anything, not even Peggy. She and I video-call because we were _friends_ before anything else. We talked about it, and as hard as it was to accept, we both made our peace with it. I promise you, Tony, I’m not leaving you to chase after any ghosts.”

“Promises are made to be broken.” Tony knew that all too well.

“Well not this one. I love you here and now, and I wouldn’t trade what we have for anyone or anything else. Not if it was to see all the guys on my special forces team again, or to see an even younger Howard. Not if it was for Peggy, and not for all the women on my USO tour.”

“Not even then? That’s a lot of ladies,” Tony smirked, playful.

“Not in a million years. I only want you, Tony.”

The relief of Steve’s admission meant more to him than he thought it would, and it washed over him in waves. Before any doubt could creep in, Steve cupped Tony’s face in his hand and kissed him, slow and gentle, pressing on his lips, working his way into Tony’s mouth, searing the words ‘ _I love you_ ’ like a hot brand on Tony’s mouth with every flick of his tongue and every caress of his thumb over Tony’s cheek.

It was Tony who reluctantly broke off their kiss, needing air a little sooner than his super soldier. After catching his breath, he dived right back in, hungry for more of Steve, wanting him, wanting every part of him, vowing never to let him go because he was greedy and selfish and Steve was his and _oh—_ the jut of Steve’s hipbone pressed on his side and Tony snapped his hips up in response. It was lucky they were so close to the bed; Tony pushed Steve backward onto the mattress and didn’t let him go for the rest of the night. 


	8. Chapter 8

Steve was right. Things were looking on the up and up. The armor was repaired and upgraded, they were making good progress with the time machine, and Tony felt the most relaxed around his dad since Howard had arrived. Only a few days after completing the upgrades on the Iron Man armor, Coulson and Fury called on the Avengers to assemble at the Triskelion to be briefed on their next assignment. When they arrived, Tony was surprised to see that his dad, of all people, was leading the meeting.

“So this is what you’ve been up to,” Tony said as Howard passed around tablets with the dossier files. Tony had been a little too busy to hack into SHIELD’s files lately and he honestly had no clue what his dad had been working on. Hell, he half expected the dossiers to be old school, all on paper. His old man was getting used to technology even more quickly than Steve had.

Howard nodded. “His codename is the Winter Soldier. He is an assassin working for the Russians, and Miss Romanoff and I have been gathering intelligence to predict his next target, who we believe is this man,” Howard flicked his hand on the transparent holographic screen, bringing up a picture of a man in military dress with the name _General Phillip Reinstaedler_ written across the top. “General Reinstaedler has been a vocal opponent of Russian interference and alleged weapons dealing in the Syrian conflict. He is going to speak at NATO headquarters in a few days, but is scheduled to attend opening night at the ballet in Brussels this evening. We think the Winter Soldier will try to take him out there, since the security is less strict than either his residency or NATO. I should also warn you, Brussels is a pit-stop. Our intel puts him on his way to New York to a bigger target.” He paused before saying, “He’s headed for Stark Tower.”

Murmurs went around the room. “Stark Tower?” asked Cap, “What’s his game?”

“We don’t know,” Howard admitted reluctantly. “He could be after the technology in the R&D labs or he could be after something more personal. He could be the Avengers, or just Captain America, given that he was originally trained by the Soviets.”

“Your mission,” said Coulson, “is to neutralize the Winter Soldier, and to recover him alive if at all possible. We believe he has critical information on a number of cases that are important to SHIELD.”

“Still, he’s just one guy. Natasha and I could go ourselves. Why involve the rest of the team in this?” Clint asked, putting down his tablet.

“He’s extremely dangerous,” Natasha explained. “The Red Room considered me one of their top assassins, but the Winter Soldier is their crowning achievement. He is experienced, lethal, and has never failed to kill a target. He had a hand in my training. I’ve been on missions with him, and he is ruthless.”

Eyebrows went up around the table before Howard took over again. “He’s something of a legendary figure, popping up again and again throughout history. We’ve traced assassinations to him in 1953, 1957, 1962, 1963, 1969, 1974, 1983, 1988, 1995, and then he dropped off our radar until 2005, and then again last year, in 2012.”

“How old was he when he started? The guy’s got to be almost a hundred,” Tony said, amazed.

“That’s the thing, he appears the same in what little footage we have of him.” Howard made another sweeping gesture and littered the screen with small, grainy pictures. The team was disappointed by the lack of visual identification on the assassin. It could have been any guy with brown hair and a mask, if not for what looked like—

“His arm. It was forged of metal?” asked Thor.

Natasha nodded. “It’s been that way for as long as I knew him. I don’t even think he knew how he lost his original one. It’s twice as strong as a real arm.”

“That still doesn’t tell me why he looks the same after almost sixty years. Does he have a time machine to hop through history? Can we borrow it for a while?” Tony quipped.

She pinned him with a glare before answering, “The Soviets cryogenically froze the Winter Soldier to preserve him over time, similar to what Cap went through, only this was deliberate. He was unfrozen for each mission and then suspended in time again, once his assignment was complete. It was likely also a way to keep him disoriented and obedient.”

“Are there any other photos of him?” asked Steve.

Howard flicked to another image on the screen that looked like a composite sketch. “This is it, pal. It was drawn by a forensic artist with the aid of Miss Romanoff.”

“Bear in mind that I haven’t laid eyes on him in twenty years. My memory is a little fuzzy,” Natasha cautioned Steve, arms crossed over her chest.

Still, he frowned, pulling up the image on his tablet for a closer look. There was something familiar in that face. Steve felt like he knew it from somewhere, but couldn’t recall. Before he could think about it, he found himself asking, “Do we know his given name?”

Arms crossed in front of her chest, Natasha regarded him for a long moment, then said, “He had no official name other than the Winter Soldier. But he told me to call him Yakov, or Yasha. It could have been his name, something remembered in a string of forgotten memories, or something he made up for our missions. I couldn’t say.”

“How come we’re being asked to fight him now?” interrupted Bruce as the voice of reason. “Wouldn’t it be better if Howard sat on the information and waited until he got back to 1983 to take action? That would save a lot of assassinations from happening.”

This time it was Fury who spoke up. “We wouldn’t have one of our best agents with us if we took him out before he could train Agent Romanoff. I was also ordered, very emphatically I might add, by Peggy Carter and Howard Stark in 1983 to put the project to bring him in on hold for another thirty years.”

Tony nodded like that made perfect sense. Looking at Howard he said, “It’s obvious that you told Fury _after_ you got back from your little stint time-travelling.”

“Oh. Great,” Bruce said weakly, looking a little faint. “So you’ve already violated causality.”

“Wibbly wobbly timey wimey,” Howard grinned. Tony made a face. His dad was spending too much time with Bruce if he had picked up a quote like that.

Tony just rolled his eyes. “We knew we could violate causality _weeks ago_ , Bruce. Keep up, will you?”

“Let’s focus on the mission,” Steve cut in. “Howard, Natasha, does he usually work alone or with a team?”

“Usually alone,” they both said. Natasha added, “He’s a tough match though, even on his own. How many of us would you need to take me down if I was seven inches taller, weighed fifty pounds more, and had Iron Man’s mechanized arm?”

Everyone started to get the picture. They were going to need all the help they could get. For the next half an hour or so, Steve began strategizing their plan of attack, drawing up diagrams of the surrounding area and asking Natasha and Clint to point out likely spots for a sniper attack.

When everything was finalized, the team was given a few hours of downtime before suiting up and heading out to the quinjet. As they climbed in, Tony was surprised to see not Clint, but _Howard_ in the pilot’s seat.

“What, did you forget I was the best civilian pilot in World War II? I think I can handle an advanced electronic system that practically pilots itself.” Howard shot him a grin and Tony gave a small smile back. It was weird to be on the same side as his dad for once, instead of constantly going toe to toe with him. It was a nice change of pace.

They went over the game plan one more time on the flight to Brussels: Steve would try to bring in the Winter Soldier with the help of Natasha, in case they could get him to both recognize _and_ trust her, and Tony would be on aerial reconnaissance with Clint to pin-point their sharpshooter. Thor, who wasn’t really suited for a stealth mission like this, was on transportation and civilian duty, and Bruce would hang back in the quinjet with Howard as a last resort. If the Hulk had to be brought out, more than a few buildings would probably get destroyed and they were hoping to avoid detection on this mission. Unsurprisingly, Bruce was completely okay with this plan.

Howard landed the quinjet on a designated rooftop about a mile from the drop point while Tony and Thor flew the team in as quietly as they could. There was no sense in alerting the Winter Soldier to their movements before necessary.

The Black Widow and Captain America were on the ground with Thor, while Iron Man and Hawkeye flew up into the night sky. With the retroreflector panels and the auxiliary jet power engaged, Tony was nearly invisible and quiet as a whisper. Clint was just as undetectable, clad in all black. They hovered above the city buildings close to the theater, looking for their sharpshooter. With the same skill set as the Winter Soldier, it didn’t take Hawkeye long to figure out where he was set up.

“There!” Hawkeye said, pointing to an apartment complex on the southwest corner of the block. There was a figure clad in all black, taking his position on the roof. A mask obscured part of his face. “Southwest corner, two blocks away from the museum, satellite antenna on top.”

“On it,” the Black Widow said through the comm. system. “We’re heading up top now.”

The Winter Soldier was already set up, waiting for the right moment to strike. Cars pulled around the long driveway to the Royal Theatre and their passengers emerged in grand style for the premier. Hawkeye and Iron Man kept a close watch as General Reinstaedler and his wife emerged from their car. They were immediately swarmed by another group, presumably coming to greet the couple, and they walked and talked on their way to the door, stopping just outside of it so that Reinstaedler could address each person in turn.

“Guys, you might want to hurry it up to the roof,” Tony called. “The General is in plain sight.”

“Working on it,” Cap replied.

This wasn’t good. The Winter Soldier could get a clear shot at any time. Clint signaled him and Tony moved in as close to the Winter Soldier as he dared without risking complete detection.

“I have the shot on our Winter Soldier,” said Clint, drawing back his bow. “Just say the word, Cap.”

“Hold your fire, wait ‘til we get there,” Steve returned, the clatter of boots on stairs echoing in the background. They couldn’t be long now, just another minute up the last few flights after where the elevator stopped.

Suddenly the General moved, side-stepped at an angle that put his back to the Winter Soldier. Tony’s eyes widened, he only had a split second to make a decision, and then—

_Boom!_

A repulsor blast blew the Winter Soldier’s high-powered rifle to pieces. The blast threw the soldier backward, but he was on his feet in seconds, this time heading for the fire escape. Tony momentarily delayed him again with another repulsor blast at half-power aimed squarely at the rooftop as he silently dropped Hawkeye ‘round the fire escape.

“What just happened up there?” Cap called through the comm. “Status Report, Iron Man, Hawkeye.”

“All clear.”

“All clear! Cap, you needed to be up here thirty seconds ago! Where are you?” Iron Man replied. Then he disengaged the retroreflectors and landed on the rooftop, painting himself as a huge red target, hopefully buying his team some time.

The soldier was the first to strike. Iron Man parried and then launched his own attack. That was a mistake. The Winter Soldier caught him in the arm and suddenly his HUD screen flickered, went offline completely, and the suit couldn’t move.

 _Electromagnetic pulse,_ he realized. _Shit_. The system wasn’t down for more than the six seconds it took to reboot the OS, but six seconds was a lot of time in close quarters with a bionic arm and a wearer that was seriously pissed off.

Just as the system went offline, Steve and Natasha burst through the door to the rooftop and Hawkeye hopped up to the top. The Black Widow fired warning shots to divert the attention of the Winter Soldier. Mercifully they worked, as he turned his attention away from the immobilized Iron Man— _three seconds to go_ —and toward the source of the gunfire.

But he completely ignored the Black Widow once he set his sights on Captain America, firing a round from a hidden pistol so quickly that none but Captain America with his super soldier reflexes could respond fast enough, bringing his shield up just in time to deflect it.

The Winter Soldier rushed him, and Steve was half-way through bringing down his fist to attack when he saw the face of his opponent, up close and personal. He instinctively pulled his punch as suspicion dawned on him. Steve wrestled with the Winter Soldier long enough to pull off the enemy’s mask, confirming his suspicions. But he wasn’t prepared for the way the realization hit him like a physical blow.

“Bucky?” Steve felt like an idiot for not having realized it sooner, but then again, maybe there was no way he could have known with the image quality as poor as it was. But here, up close and personal, there was no mistaking that look in his eyes or the confident smirk of his lips. Steve didn’t understand how, all he knew was that he needed to get him back. “Bucky! Bucky, it’s me, Steve! Don’t you—”

He couldn’t finish his sentence as the Winter Soldier charged at him like a wild animal, frenzied and enraged. Steve brought his shield up to block the blows coming from the other mans’ bionic arm, all the while pleading with him, “Please Bucky, it’s me! Don’t you remember me? Don’t do this, Bucky, I don’t want to fight you!”

The team didn’t understand what, exactly, was going on, but when they tried to step in, Cap ordered them to stay put. Hawkeye made a move to take a shot, but Captain America called out, “No! Hold your fire. We’re bringing him in alive or not at all and _that is an order, Avengers. Hold your fire!_ ”

They watched in confusion as Captain America became more frantic and the Winter Soldier grew wilder and wilder. The more Cap blocked, the harder the blows came, until the Winter Soldier pushed Captain America toward the edge of the roof.

“Iron Man!” Black Widow growled low over the comm. system.

“Got it,” Iron Man responded, moving into position behind the building.

“Don’t do this to yourself, Bucky!” Cap pleaded. The Winter Soldier responded by giving one final shove, sending Steve tumbling off the edge of the building. He watched Captain America fall slowly to his death before Iron Man rushed up to catch him, soaring high and above the building himself.

“Get him back to the quinjet Iron Man! I think Cap is triggering him, he’s making it worse!” Natasha instructed him, never losing her calm. She was second-in-command on this mission and it was clear Steve’s judgment was clouded here. “Thor, I need you up here ASAP. You too Iron Man, once you get back.”

A chorus of, “Copy that,” came through the comm. system as Iron Man flew away from the scene.

Tony pretended not to hear Steve’s frantic pleading for them to turn around—it was barely audible anyway and pretending not to hear it helped him pretend his heart wasn’t breaking for Steve right now. As they approached, Tony radioed Howard to have him open the hatch. A minute later Iron Man and Captain America flew up and into the quinjet.

“What happened?” Bruce immediately stood up with the med kit in hand, going over to a Captain America who looked drained and white as a sheet. Howard was just turning around, switching off the controls before going to Steve.

“You gotta take me back!” Steve pleaded with him. “I don’t know how, but it’s Bucky back there. We fought in the war together, I thought he died! He’s my _best friend!_ I have to get through to him, please!”

“You’re compromised, Cap. I can’t let you go back,” Iron Man said through the suit, faceplate firmly in place.

“Take me back to the fight, Iron Man.” Steve drew himself up and tried for his most authoritative Captain America voice but Tony just shook his head. Steve’s face crumpled. “Please, don’t let anything happen to him. He’s all I’ve got, he’s my—If something happened to him, if he— _Please_ , bring him back safely.”

“I will. I promise, Cap. Bruce, Dad, look after him. I’m going back in there.” Iron Man turned around, took a leap off the quinjet, and flew back into the fray. Behind him, Captain America collapsed into a heap, as Howard and Bruce tried to console him.

 

Meanwhile, Iron Man raced back to find the Black Widow, Hawkeye, and Thor all fighting the Winter Soldier. Mjolnir lay discarded on the ground while Thor attacked the Winter Soldier with brute force; it looked like Thor had already discovered that lightning strikes were as useless against a bionic arm as they were on an Iron Man suit.

Hawkeye and the Black Widow tag-teamed him, the Black Widow using Hawkeye as a spring board, hoping to crash into the Winter Soldier with a running start and the force of their momentum. But he was quick, his reflexes helping him side-step the Black Widow as he turned around in time to block another blow from Thor.

The terms of the fight, that they were out to subdue the Winter Soldier while he was out to disable or kill them any way he could, made engaging him more difficult. They had to hurt him, but couldn’t put any bullets in him; knock him down, but not out for good.

They each got in their fair share of hits, with Thor taking the lead. His godly strength seemed to be the only thing wearing down the Winter Soldier, though at this rate, they could be there all night.

“Black Widow, I need a distraction,” Iron Man said through the comm.’s open channel. “Keep him steady for me; can’t have my aim going awry.”

“[Yступать, солдат!]” she called without missing a beat, meant to get the Winter Soldier’s attention.

Apparently, the surprise of hearing another voice speak Russian was enough to catch him off-guard. Halfway through a swing at Thor, he stumbled and missed.

“[Yступать!]” the Black Widow repeated. “[Яша прекрати́те!]”

With Thor retreating and no one moving to attack him, the Winter Soldier stuttered to a halt, taking a minute to catch his breath from the fight once he realized no one was immediately assaulting him.

“JARVIS, put the translation software online. I want to hear what she’s saying,” Tony said inside the suit.

“Yes, sir.” And after a few moments of whirring and clicking, “The translation software is fully online.”

“[Who is Yasha?]” the Winter Soldier’s voice was harsh, ragged.

“[You are, soldier.]” That was Natasha’s voice, calm and cool. “[You don’t remember who you are, but I do. And you want to know, Yasha, you do. I can tell you who you are, if you—]”

“[You lie!]” he snarled.

He was getting ready to strike again, fed up with Natasha’s speech. Iron Man hovered behind him and took the shot, sending a repulsor blast clean through the bicep of his bionic arm, the pieces spraying across the rooftop. The Winter Soldier turned around and launched himself at Tony, who only rose a little higher in the suit to get clear of his grasp.

His distraction was good enough for the Black Widow. She took a running start before deliberately leaping and crashing into the Winter Soldier. The duct work on the rooftop wasn’t more than three feet behind them and she threw them back into it, _hard_. The Black Widow used him to brace herself and felt little of the impact, but the Winter Soldier didn’t fare so well, his head bashing against the metal duct work. One look at the Winter Soldier’s slumped over form, unmoving, told the team that he was passed out.

“We don’t know how long he’s going to be out for. We have to get moving,” Black Widow said. “Thor, take him back to the quinjet. Hold him at the wrist in case he wakes up midflight and get him strapped up once you’re on.” She watched as Thor picked up the Winter Soldier like he was a rag doll and took off. Into the comm. unit she said, “Bruce, the Winter Soldier is headed your way. I need you to prepare a sedative in case he’s violent when he comes around. Low dose, I just gave him a concussion. Iron Man, ready to give us a ride?” She gestured to Hawkeye and herself.

Extending his arms out to Natasha and Clint, Tony said, “You got it.”

When they got to the quinjet, the scene was chaos. The Winter Soldier had already regained consciousness and was fighting Thor and Cap who were trying to put him in restraints. He looked like a wild animal again, enraged and clawing his way to attack Captain America. He even got in a good punch when Steve wasn’t looking.

The moment Natasha stepped down she said, “Hawkeye, take over for Cap and hold him down. Bruce, he’s going to need that sedative now! Iron Man, I need you to get Cap out of here. He can’t be on the quinjet with Yasha, it’s making him worse!”

Tony rolled his eyes inside the suit, “We’ll have to take the long way home!”

In the midst of struggling with the Soviet assassin, Clint gave an exasperated sigh. With one hand he threw what looked like a knapsack at Tony. “Here, take it. Just get him out.”

“On it. Cap, let’s go.”

Steve was still watching the proceedings, standing there frozen as Thor and Clint held Bucky down long enough for Bruce to inject him with a tranquilizer.

“Come on, Cap.” When Steve didn’t move, Tony grabbed him from behind, dropping them out of the quinjet before Steve could protest. Steve fought him the whole way down, shouting at him to take them back as he banged and banged against the armor. If he kept it up, he was going to make a dent in it.

Tony dropped them into a deserted alley (well, it was deserted after the sight of Iron Man had its usual inhabitants running for the hills) and Steve tore into him the moment they landed.

“Why did you do that? Take me back there right now! That’s Bucky in there, I should be there with him!”

“No, you really shouldn’t, Cap,” Tony argued, and he wasn’t backing down on this one. “Every time he sees you he goes crazy. Black Widow thinks you’re a trigger for him. Something is making him act that way around you whether he wants to or not. Until we figure out how to fix it, you can’t go within sight of him.”

Steve stared at him in horror before slumping against the nearest wall. “So how are we going to get home?”

“We take the long way. Plane from London.”

Steve made a noise of frustration followed by, “Wouldn’t it be faster if you gave me a ride? I don’t care if I can’t see him, yet. I want to be there.”

“St-Captain America,” he corrected because they were still in uniform, “Taking you flying is only safe over short distances. To go as fast as the quinjet I would need to get up to altitude. It’s dark and it’s freezing outside. Apart from the speed, a body couldn’t take the cold outside the suit, which is specially designed for that purpose.”

“I’m a super soldier. I think I can take a little cold and wind.”

“Not the point. Going that fast, I could drop you over the Atlantic if I run into trouble. It’s not safe. We’re taking the long way. Now hop on, I’m flying us to London.”

Steve raised his eyebrows. “You do know we have to go over water to get there.”

Right now Tony could kick him. Steve was usually so reasonable! Did he have to pick a fight about _this_? “Not the same thing and you know it. It’s five minutes tops over the Channel, not five hours. Now come here. And keep your comm. on just in case. I can’t hear you from inside the suit when I’m flying.”

Tony got them to Heathrow in half an hour. There was a small hiccup in the arrangements, something to do with air traffic control and short notice but the airport cleaned it up in no time, thanks to Tony’s well-known status as a VIP customer with a StarkJet on-call at Heathrow. Tony procured their SHIELD issued, special government clearance passports from the knapsack he’d been carrying and they flew out on Tony’s private jet not long after they arrived.

They both showered and ate, and Tony even managed to cajole Steve into sleeping for most of the flight. “There’s no point worrying yourself sick for the next five hours when all we can do is wait. What if he needs you when we land? You’re not doing him any favors by exhausting yourself. Get some shuteye.”

Steve had nodded mutely and gone into another section of the cabin to sleep, though he tossed and turned for about an hour before he truly fell off into a deep slumber.

Tony, on the other hand, stayed awake looking over every file he could break into, decrypt, or otherwise get his hands on that pertained to one James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes.

When they were first getting to know each other, Steve had mentioned Bucky, but just the basics: they’d grown up together, they’d fought in the war, he’d lost Bucky in a Hydra raid, end of story. The only other time Steve ever brought up his deceased best friend was if they were doing something that reminded Steve of Bucky, like going to a baseball game or taking a walk in Prospect Park.

Tony had a brief twinge of guilt over breaking into some secure files—it was possible he was developing ethics on privacy from spending so much time with Steve—before diving headfirst into the files. Like Steve, Barnes’ mother died when he was young. But unlike Steve, Bucky still had his father for a time, before a fatal accident at work sent Bucky to the same orphanage as Steve at the age of 12. Tony knew from Steve that they were very close growing up. Records from the 1940 census and old blueprints registered with the city told Tony that Steve and Bucky had lived together in a tiny 350 square foot apartment with only one bedroom, an interesting detail that Tony filed away for later. The army records showed that Bucky was captured behind enemy lines, tortured, and experimented on. According to “Captain Rogers” in the report, Bucky had been reciting his number when Steve found him. Tony frowned. There looked like a lot more to the story that wasn’t being said.

He read about every mission Steve and Bucky had gone on together, and the fatal mission that caused Bucky’s (supposed) death. Bucky had been forced out of a HYDRA train while it was going past a cliff, and the handle he’d been holding onto broke off before Steve could get to him. Well this was new; Steve had never mentioned _that_ to Tony. No wonder he had so much guilt built up over the subject. From there the trail went cold for obvious reasons, and Tony resorted to reading the dossier files Howard had put together, the ones he hadn’t gotten around to reading before.

Exhausted after attempting to glean any information that could help them, or at least help him understand Steve right now, Tony settled into the full-back recliner and tried to catch a few winks himself. He had a feeling they were going to need it when they landed.


	9. Chapter 9

It was chaos when they arrived in New York. The problem, according to Clint, was that the Winter Soldier kept fighting his restraints, which meant that Bruce or a nurse, now that they were at the medical wing of the Triskelion, had to dose him with a sedative, for lack of another option. It was medically unsound due to the concussion, and they shouldn’t have because SHIELD wanted him to stay alive, but there was little alternative. This meant that the sedative dosage had to be low enough to rouse their prisoner two hours later, long enough to check on his concussion, and from there the fight to keep him restrained would start all over again.

Dawn was just peeking over the horizon when Tony and Steve came in about an hour after the rest of the team had arrived at the Triskelion. As soon as Clint gave them the status report, Coulson rounded them up for a full debrief. The whole team, plus Howard, was escorted into a conference room where Fury was waiting, irritated and unhappy. The Avengers needed no preamble before they recounted the night’s events, taking turns in telling the whole story.

Steve faltered when it came time to explain just who, exactly, the Winter Soldier was. “I... I couldn’t fight him,” he admitted. “Winter Soldier or not, he’s still Bucky Barnes. I couldn’t risk hurting him.”

“The Winter Soldier didn’t feel the same way about you,” Natasha said. “He was more ruthless with you than I’ve ever seen him.” She turned to Fury and Coulson, “Once the Winter Soldier realized he was dealing with Captain America, he became highly agitated, acting on an instinctive kind of frenzy. Since Captain America is a symbol of everything American—freedom, civil liberties, capitalism—and everything the Soviet Union stood against, it’s not hard to believe that taking out Captain America would have been part of his programming.”

Steve frowned deeply, the only indication in his stoic frame that told Tony he wasn’t okay in the slightest. “Bucky and I fought together during the war.” He swallowed thickly, “I watched him fall to his death.” He paused again. “I don’t understand how he could still be alive.”

“I think I do.” The room’s occupants turned their attention to Howard, who was standing with his arms crossed, a frown and a thoughtful look on his face. “Sergeant Barnes was captured by Hydra in the fall of ’43 and experimented on. When Steve got him back, Bucky didn’t remember what they’d done to him.” He explained this for the sake of everyone who wasn’t Steve before going on, “On the mission that got Barnes killed, the Commandos captured Arnim Zola.” His lip curled in disgust, “Zola was Hydra’s top researcher, a filthy stinking _coward_ I had the displeasure of working with. Once he cut a deal with Colonel Phillips, he sang like a canary. He told me everything there was to know about Hydra’s weapons and the Tesseract-powered technology that I couldn’t make heads or tails of before.

“He was also working on another Super Soldier Serum. He said he only got the chance to test it on one subject before his equipment was blown up. He didn’t remember who it was, but now that James Barnes is alive and kicking, it’s obvious what happened to him. The variant of the serum he received would have allowed him to stay cryogenically frozen in the snow, long enough for his body to repair most of the damage done. Somewhere along the way the Soviets dug him out, tested him for traces of the serum, and used it to their advantage. I’ll bet you anything Barnes has that Super Soldier Serum variant in his blood.”

“At this rate, we won’t be doing testing anytime soon,” Fury admitted grudgingly. “The nurses had a hard time getting an IV line into him, and he hasn’t sit still long enough for them to draw blood, that’s for sure.”

“Can I see him?” Steve asked.

“Afraid not, Cap,” said Fury, and Steve’s face fell. “You’re too much of a liability. We don’t want to risk another outburst from him anytime soon.”

“When _can_ I see him?”

“You won’t be able to see Sergeant Barnes until he’s de-programmed,” Coulson explained. “For that to happen, we’ll need to run tests on him first. And for us to run tests on him, he has to cooperate long enough for us to do it. Blood work-up, EKG, CAT scan, MRI, x-rays, all tests that require him to stay still, and not all of which can be done while he’s under a sedative.”

“I’m trying to get him to recognize me, to remember me,” Natasha said, “but until he does, it could take weeks before he stops fighting. He’s been trained to withstand interrogation and he won’t go down without a fight.”

They finished the debriefing after that, and Coulson ushered the team out again, suggesting they go back to the Tower and get some shut-eye. On his way out, Howard put a hand on Tony’s shoulder and asked, “Are you holding up okay?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. Dropping his voice he added, “It’s Cap I’m worried about. I’m going to stay with him.”

“Alright. I’ll meet you back at the Tower later.” His dad nodded to Tony before making his way out.

Tony waited for Steve so they could leave together, but Steve waved him off, explaining that he wanted to speak to Director Fury alone. Tony nodded, “I’ll just be outside, over there.” He pointed to a waiting area across the hall and let himself out.

Of course, he had absolutely _no_ intention of doing what he said. Instead, he stood just outside the door and eavesdropped on every word.

“You said SHIELD is going to deprogram Bucky, get him to remember who he is. What happens after that?” That was Steve’s voice, strong and firm, with a little waver that Tony was sure only he could detect.

“What do you mean, Captain?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Director.” The ire in Steve’s tone rose a notch. “The Winter Soldier might be an enemy of the state, but Bucky Barnes is a soldier and a _veteran_ of this country. I won’t let you hand him over to the government or the military for treason, not when the fact that he was _brainwashed_ and coerced into it can’t be easily proven.”

“We are prepared to make any charges against Sergeant James Barnes disappear, in exchange for his cooperation.”

“You’re going to interrogate him. Wring him dry for information, is that it?”

Fury side-stepped the question, “He has information that is valuable to SHIELD.”

“So you _are_ planning to interrogate him.” Steve let out a breathy laugh, though he didn’t sound amused at all. “Well I got news for you, Director: not while I’m here.”

“Barnes’ choices will be made clear to him. He cooperates, or we hand him over to the military, who will be far less pleasant that we are. I can assure you of that, _Captain_.” The tone of Fury’s response sounded like the start of a pissing contest, and Tony could imagine the Director and Steve facing off, soon.

“I know exactly what SHIELD’s interrogation methods can be like, and you know my opinion on them. Bucky is _my_ responsibility, he is still _my_ subordinate, and you’ll have to go through _me_ first. _I_ approve the questions beforehand, _I_ approve the method, and _I_ get to be in the room with him the whole time.” Steve was practically growling at this point, anger simmering just below the surface.

“You don’t get to make those decisions, Captain Rogers,” Fury said coolly.

“No? Then I’m off the team,” Steve shot right back. He hissed, “And if you think I’m bluffing, you better think again, Director _._ Bucky is _mine_ to take care of, to look out for, and I’d go to hell and back before I let SHIELD hurt him.”

There was a long, long silence, and Tony could only imagine the intensity of the staring contest that must have been taking place inside. For the most part, Steve’s demeanor was usually calm and composed, always with a strong, solid foundation underneath. Tony sometimes forgot how powerful, how formidable Steve could be when threatened, never giving in when the cause was just. Tony kept listening, could hear the ticking of a _clock_ on a wall for goodness sake, until Fury finally relented, “You can be there, Captain.”

“And I get to approve the questions and the method,” Steve reminded him.

“That too.”

“I’m glad we could come to an understanding, Director.”

Tony heard feet shuffling and clothes rustling, and he guessed that they were shaking on the deal. Before Tony could scramble to the other side of the hallway and pretend he hadn’t been listening in at all, Steve threw the door open and walked out, Fury right behind him. They took one look at him and it was obvious they knew what he had been doing. If looks could kill, Tony would have _withered_ under the gaze Fury scrutinized him with. As it was, Tony drew himself up, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he tried to ask as casually as he could manage, “Have a good chat?”

“Get out of my sight, Stark,” Fury dismissed him with a glare.

Tony didn’t need to be told twice. He left with Steve, quickening his pace to keep up with Steve’s long strides. When he realized Steve was headed back to the medical wing of the Triskelion, he pointed out, “I think the exit is the other way.”

Steve shook his head, “I’m not leaving. I’m staying here, even if I can’t see Bucky. I want to be here once I’m allowed. I want to be here if he needs me.” It wasn’t in Steve’s nature to do anything at less than one hundred percent, and Tony knew there was no arguing with him on this one. Steve settled into a chair, looking more tired and world weary than ever. Finding out your best friend wasn’t dead, but still alive and brainwashed to hate you by a phantom enemy wasn’t exactly a walk in the park.

Tony picked the seat next to him, wanting to be there for moral support, but after five minutes of wall-staring and silence from Steve, he became antsy. It wasn’t in his nature to stay still for very long and this... this was going to take a very long while.

“I’m going to get food. You want anything in particular?”

Steve glanced at Tony, shook his head, and went back to his wall-staring, hunched over in thought.

When he said he was going to get food, Steve probably thought that he meant from the SHIELD mess hall, but Tony had no intention of getting cafeteria fare. He went to Steve’s favorite diner and bought him his favorite breakfast meal, his favorite sandwich, and his favorite breakfast sandwich, and a few meals for himself. Then Tony swung by the Tower, where the rest of the team was winding down. He grabbed his laptop, Steve’s sketchbook, and a deck of cards.

The result was that a few hours later, with a lack of anything better to do, Tony found himself at the Triskelion, ensconced in calculations and programming for the time machine, while Steve sketched away diligently. Even if Tony hadn’t been sneaking glances every time Steve left to use the bathroom, it didn’t take a genius to guess what he was drawing. Page after page was devoted to sketches of one James Buchanan Barnes. Some in the beginning were clearly the Winter Soldier, metal arm and all, but they were all half-finished, Steve not having the heart to fill in the details of the sketch.

As time went on, his work tended to be of Bucky Barnes, the way Tony presumed Steve remembered him. Many were of Barnes laughing, pointing at something funny or making a goofy face. Sometimes they were of Barnes in action, throwing a baseball, stepping into a boxing ring, or in one sketch, in position as a sniper taking out a target intended for Captain America. A few of them were of Barnes in uniform, standing alongside the Howling Commandos, and in one picture Steve had drawn himself and Barnes grinning like a pair of idiots, as thick as thieves together. It was clear from the way that Steve drew the pictures there was a great deal of affection behind them, maybe even love.

He always made sure to listen carefully for Steve’s footsteps, arranging the sketchbook as it had been before, and returning to his seat as if nothing had happened.

Sometimes when Tony was upset, he wanted to be completely alone—like after his dad had humiliated him in front of his teammates and friends—but more often than not, he sulked or complained about it, looking for Pepper or Rhodey, or more recently, Steve, to lend an ear. But Steve? Steve was the complete opposite. When he was worried or anxious, he hid it behind a stoic façade. Steve kept his troubles to himself until he was ready to come to Tony with them, a rarity even then. It drove Tony nuts, hurting when Steve was hurting and not being able to do anything about it. He hated that Steve put so much on himself, that he let his feelings eat away at him instead of coming to Tony for support. All he could do was _be_ there for Steve, hoping that he would eventually open up.

Periodically, Natasha was sent into the Winter Soldier’s containment room in an effort to get him to cooperate; she had worked with him previously, but because they would wipe his mind between missions, he didn’t remember her now, and there was no guarantee that he would recognize her again. Each time she stepped in the room, Steve pretended to keep drawing, though he was actually straining his Super Soldier hearing to try and listen in. Each time the result was the same: no change.

“He doesn’t recognize me, yet,” she shook her head, coming out again. Taking a seat next to Steve, she peered at his sketchpad on the coffee table, taking note of the subject in Steve’s drawings. Apologetically she said, “I didn’t know it was him.”

Steve shook his head, “You couldn’t have known. None of us could have.”

Natasha protested just as fiercely, “I _should_ have known, I should have made the connection. Yasha, or Yakov, is Russian and Hebrew for ‘Jacob.’ In English it’s ‘ _James_.’ James Buchanan Barnes. If I knew, I would have told you.”

“And I couldn’t identify him from a forensic sketch,” Steve countered. He paused. “What’s important is that he’s here now. We’re gonna get him better.” Natasha had nothing to say to that.

They fell into a lull until Tony reached for the deck of cards, suggesting they use it to pass the time. Both of his teammates agreed and they played quietly for a while, until Natasha was called away by Coulson for SHIELD business and paperwork.

As night fell, Tony scrounged up a few blankets for the both of them, and they slept on adjacent couches in the medical wing’s waiting room. In the morning, Tony grew more concerned for Steve than before; he really wished Steve would talk to him, open up to him. It was clear the situation was eating at him from the inside out and still, no matter how much he poked or prodded, Steve withdrew further into himself.

Later in the day, Tony had to leave for a few hours at the behest of Pepper, who needed him for a few things back at the office. When he returned to the Triskelion, he found Steve and Howard sitting next to each other, their heads close together. Too far away to hear, Tony watched from the doorway as Steve talked to Howard at length. It wasn’t difficult to guess about what.

He knew it was stupid, knew that Steve was in more pain than he was, but Tony couldn’t help but feel _hurt_. He spent all day yesterday and most of today with Steve, and the one person Steve chose confide in was _Howard_? How could Tony be there for Steve if Steve wouldn’t let him?

He waited until it looked like Howard and Steve had finished their conversation before announcing his presence. They both greeted him with a smile and Howard suggested Steve grab something from the mess hall, leaving Tony alone with his dad.

“Steve says you were here with him for the past two days,” Howard opened with.

Tony nodded, “Yeah. I’m here with him two days and he doesn’t say a word. You come for the two hours I’m gone and he tells you the whole story.” Tony hadn’t honestly meant for it to come out so harshly, but it was the truth of how he felt.

Fortunately, Howard didn’t look offended. “He loves you. He didn’t want to burden you with this.”

“Too late. We’re involved now. I hurt when he hurts, and it hurts when he doesn’t tell me _why_ he hurts. It’s a lose-lose situation here.”

Howard regarded his son thoughtfully before explaining, “Steve was inconsolable the first time he lost Barnes. Right after the mission debrief he disappeared for _hours_. No one could find him, until Peggy discovered him drinking in the bombed out remains of the bar the Commandos used to frequent. Even then, he didn’t say much to her, kept most of it to himself.”

“So why is he talking to you now?”

Howard shrugged. He could only guess; he didn’t really know. “Peggy and I are the only ones who remember Barnes as he was, and maybe he needs that right now. Tony, this isn’t a competition between you and me. You’ve done a good job of taking care of him, and he knows that. Be patient. He’ll come around to you.”

 _‘You’ve done a good job_.’ The words soothed him like a balm. His dad was right. Steve would come around and Tony would be there for him when he did.

They played cards for a while when Steve returned. Steve as always, paid attention to when the nurses or Natasha went in and out of Barnes’ room, waiting for any news. He had planned to sleep at the Triskelion again, for as long as it took, but Tony and Howard managed to cajole him into coming back to the Tower, pointing out that Steve could return in the morning.

When they reached the Tower and Tony stepped out of the elevator to his floor, Steve didn’t follow. Tony looked back at him quizzically as Steve said quietly, “I think I need to be alone tonight. If that’s okay.”

He sucked in a breath but otherwise tried not to let anything show on his face. This was about Steve; it wasn’t anything Tony had done, right? He let out a jerky nod. “Right. See you in the morning. Night.”

Steve nodded in return, the last glimpse of him that Tony saw before the elevator doors shut.

As Tony lay down to sleep that night, he was acutely aware of the empty space beside him. It felt different than before, when Howard didn’t know about their relationship. This time, it was by choice, not merely circumstance, and it left Tony with an ache he couldn’t quite identify.

It was a long time before Tony fell asleep.

 

“Security breach on level 61. Sir, there is an intruder in the building and the glass has been smashed.”

JARVIS’ voice rang through the dark room and Tony bolted upright with a gasp. Level 61? Oddly, that was the gym, and it was a few floors above the time machine lab.

“Lights, JARVIS?”

The room flooded with light and Tony turned to wake Steve up before realizing he wasn’t there. Pushing the aching sensation in his chest aside, Tony jumped out of bed and ran to throw on the Kevlar under armor that he usually wore with the Iron Man suit. In the midst of it, he got a call.

“Incoming call from Directory Fury, sir.”

“Patch him through, JARVIS.”

“Bad news, Stark. The Winter Soldier has escaped from SHIELD headquarters. We found one of the nurses knocked out and the door _unlocked_.” Ouch. Head were going to roll; Tony had never heard Fury so angry. “We think he’s going to complete the mission he meant to carry out before. We think he’s headed your way.”

“Yeah, I have a feeling he’s already here. Call you back later,” Tony ended the call and grabbed the emergency handheld repulsor in his dresser drawer before heading out. While he headed for the elevator he said, “Where is he now? Talk to me JARVIS.”

“Sir, he is still on floor 61. It appears he is attempting to access floor by floor information from the system console.”

Shit, that couldn’t be good news. Halfway to the elevator Tony stopped in his tracks and ran over to the nearest console, fingers flying over the panel. “Put the system on lockdown, JARVIS! I want bare minimum of monitoring function keeping track of him, video, audio, but that’s it—no doors, no elevators, no nothing,” he said redundantly, already trying to shut the system down manually. Apparently the Winter Soldier was no hacker and Tony shut down all but the monitoring equipment with ease. The downside was now he’d have to take the stairs and it was a good ten floors down.

On his way down he ran into Natasha and Clint, and later he could hear Thor, Steve, and Bruce clattering down the stairs, about five flights behind them. “JARVIS, where is he now?”

“I believe he is _scaling_ the exterior of the building.” JARVIS paused. “My apologies, sir, he has just broken through the window on floor 57.”

“Shit, that’s—” Clint started.

“--our research lab for the time machine! _Fuck._ ” Tony swore, out of breath from running down the stairs. “The Tesseract is on that floor!”

By the time he got to the 57th floor, the rest of the team had caught up to him. Once they reached the doors to the lab, everyone could see the Winter Soldier through the glass wall that separated the lab from the hallway.

“JARVIS, what about the doors?”

“I’m afraid I cannot operate the doors at this time, as you requested a full system lockdown.”

Oh well, he’d just have to get the glazier in here tomorrow, even though all of their equipment was inside. Jane and Bruce were going to have a fit. Hell, forget that, _Pepper_ and _Happy_ were going to have a fit. With one swift repulsor blast, Tony shattered the glass wall into little tiny pieces, quite a few of which he was pleased to see went flying into the Winter Soldier.

But they weren’t fast enough. The Winter Solder already had the container for the Tesseract in his hand and was beginning to unlock it. He reached his hand in and—

“No, don’t touch it!” Steve screamed, scrambling to get to him.

It was too late. The cube was clutched in the Winter Soldier’s hand, glowing as brightly as the day Loki had opened up a portal to another dimension. The Soldier screamed in agony as its blue light engulfed him. He seemed no longer capable of moving his hand or releasing the cube, thereby forced to endure the torture it brought. Steve tried to get the cube away from him, but the Tesseract created a barrier around the Winter Soldier and Steve was thrown backward into the nearest row of cabinets.

What seemed to last forever was, in reality, no more than a few minutes before the light dissipated and the Winter Soldier was able to release the cube, letting it fall back into its tubular casing. Breathing hard, he slowly took in his surroundings, realization and panic showing in his eyes.

“Wha—? Where—?” He locked eyes on Natasha, “[Наташенька, Это ты?]” and she rushed over to him.

“[Да. Да, Яшенька, это я.]”

“[Я помню.] I remember everything,” he repeated in English, holding his head in his hands like his head was pounding.

Steve snapped out of his trance and picked himself off the floor. Bucky turned his head toward the movement, looking at Steve for the first time with wide eyes. “Steve? Steve is that you?”

His expression and demeanor was drastically different from when Steve had fought him as the Winter Soldier. _This_ was Bucky and he was coming home.

“Yeah Bucky, it’s me.”

Bucky gasped for breath, connecting the dots between his best friend, and the Captain America he had pushed off a roof top just two days. A million different emotions flickered through his face. Shock. Fear. Most of all, _guilt_. “ _Steve!_ I don’t—I can’t—What’s going on? ” he cried, panic setting in.

“It’s alright, Bucky. You’re safe here,” Steve held his arms outstretched, already walking over to him. Bucky backed away from him, “No! Don’t touch me! Don’t come near me, Steve, it’s not safe!” No one made a move to stop him as he broke into a run down the corridor, the sound of broken glass crunching beneath his feet down the hallway.

“I’m going after him. Stay here unless I call for back up,” Natasha instructed before she followed in his wake.

Even if he wanted to, Steve couldn’t move. He stood frozen to the spot, all the while feeling like he’d been punched in the gut before his heart had been ripped out and torn into a million pieces.


	10. Chapter 10

Tony fiddled with the console panel on the wall, removing the lockdown from the system. But when he finished, he saw the look on Steve’s face and immediately went to his side, guiding Steve to sit on a nearby bench while the super soldier was still in shock.

JARVIS’ voice came through over the intercom. “Sir, Ms. Foster, Ms. Lewis, and Mr. Stark seem to be alarmed at their previous inability to leave their rooms due to the lockdown.”

Thor looked at Tony before he said softly, “I shall seek out Jane.”

“And I should check on Darcy,” Clint nodded.

“I’ll tell Howard for you,” Bruce offered before the three of them left together.

Later, when Tony reviewed the footage from JARVIS, he would see that Natasha and Bucky were holed up in her room, sitting side by side on the bed. Natasha wrapped an arm around him gently as they talked quietly, while Thor wrangled everyone else into the kitchen at the same time. In the absence of Steve to lead the Avengers, Thor stepped in to take the lead. Tony was surprised, but it made sense: Thor was a prince back in Asgard and he had leadership experience as both a commanding officer and a diplomat. Thor was there to meet Fury, Coulson, and Hill when they arrived, and explained the situation to them. Thor was there to direct Fury and Hill to Natasha’s room where she and Bucky were. And Thor was there to take Coulson up to the two floors that had broken glass and survey the damage with him. The Winter Soldier had launched a grappling hook from an adjacent building and _zip-lined_ his way to the Stark Tower. Tony had fortified its defenses pretty well, but even he had to admit he hadn’t seen that one coming, with the considerable distance between Stark Tower and the nearest building.

But right now, Tony sat with Steve, who was crying quietly into his shoulder. Steve hadn’t cried once through this whole ordeal—not when they’d first seen Bucky on the rooftop, not when he was told he couldn’t see Bucky at all, not during the past two days while he waited at the Triskelion. But there was only so much a person could take, even a super soldier like Captain America. Tony cradled Steve in his chest, rubbing his back and making soothing noises as he did. “It’s okay, Steve. It’s going to be okay.”

Even after Steve had exhausted himself with crying, they stayed like that until Coulson and Thor came into the room, Thor explaining to him what had transpired not long after. There was a lot of sensitive technology in the room, far too much to move, and it was a huge security risk to leave the windows and the doors unattended to like this. Coulson arranged for a SHIELD security detail to keep guard in the room until the glazier could come in the morning, and Thor also said that he would take watch, as he felt uneasy leaving the Tesseract unguarded.

Toward the end of their conversation, Howard showed up, ostensibly because he was worried about Steve. Tony was relieved to see him, if only because he needed to speak to Fury as soon as possible. “Can you take care of him for a while?” he asked his dad when they were out of earshot of Steve.

“Of course,” Howard said softly, already glancing at Steve sympathetically. “I’ll see if I can get him to your room and back to bed.”

“Hey. I have to talk to Fury for a while. You going to be okay?” Tony asked, going over to Steve.

“Yeah. Sure, I’ll be fine,” Steve said, his voice rough with emotion. They both knew he was lying, but that was Steve for you.

“Alright. Howard will stay with you. I love you,” he said, pressing a tender kiss to Steve’s temple.

“Love you too,” Steve replied automatically.

Tony didn’t _like_ leaving him, but there was something he had to take care of first.

“JARVIS, locate Nick Fury for me.”

“He is currently on Ms. Romanov’s floor, level 69, sir.”

Tony took the elevator upstairs, intending to look for Fury. As soon as the doors opened, Tony came face to face with the Director himself. “Fury! Just the man I was looking for!” he said with false cheer.

“Can it wait, Stark? I need to survey the damage.”

“Perfect, that’s where I was headed. I’ll show you around,” Tony made an open gesture with his hand, inviting Fury to step into the elevator, which he did with reluctance.

“So what is it you want to talk about?” Fury said with a sigh as Tony pushed the button for the 59th floor.

“Keeping the Winter Soldier, or rather, James Barnes, at Stark Tower.” Tony carefully did not mention that the only reason he was pressing the issue was because it would mean a lot to Steve. He had already spent two days waiting at the Triskelion and Tony was sure he’d do it again if that’s where Barnes was headed. For Steve’s convenience, it would be much easier if his best friend was close by, at the Tower.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“He can’t go back to SHIELD’s medical center, he might as well stay here,” Tony insisted.

Fury put his hands on his hips, looking exasperated with Tony already. “I don’t think you understand the _situation_ , Iron Man. Barnes is unstable; we don’t know if he’s going to have another outburst. There are extensive tests we need to perform to assess his condition. And we’ll need a containment cell for the time being. He might have all of his memories back, but he’s still a safety risk until we can assess him.”

“And I have a whole medical bay for that. You want CAT scans? MRI? Bloodwork? You name it, I’ve got it. Luckily for you, I even have a containment cell.” The elevator pinged as they reached their destination. “This is it,” Tony said as they stepped out into the “Other Guy’s Lab” as he and Bruce called it. This was the biggest R&D lab they had in the whole building, and it was easy to see why: a huge glass containment chamber took up about half of the floor space. “A triple-adamantium layered chamber with vibranium particles infused into the glass. Completely Hulk resistant, as far as Bruce and I have tested it.”

“It may be Hulk resistant, but is it super-spy proof?” Fury asked. “How do I know Barnes won’t disable the system and stroll out all on his own?”

“The lock is both retina-scanned and thumb-print weight sensitive. There’s an emergency button hidden in the floor in case of an accidental lock-in, but I’m the only one the emergency lock is programmed for.”

“And tell me again why I should let Barnes stay in _your_ Tower, instead of SHIELD headquarters where he belongs?”

“Excuse me, I’m not the one who let a _Red Room Assassin_ escape from my supposedly secure facility in less than 48 hours because someone _forgot_ to lock the door!”

“That was one person, and believe me, they’re already fired!” Fury countered hotly.

“Alright, human error,” Tony shrugged. “But why take the risk in the first place? This system vastly reduces the chances for error, and it’s virtually indestructible so there’s no chance of escape to begin with. Look, you can have all the SHIELD agents you like for security, and whatever doctors you need for tests, but I want him here. SHIELD certainly hasn’t done its job of keeping him secure and my system can do a damn sight better than that. Tell you what, if he escapes again, you can have him back, deal?”

Fury considered it for a long minute before he gestured to the adamantium-infused glass. “This thing really Hulk resistant?”

“I’ve got the video to prove it.”

“I’m sure you do. You’d better hope I don’t live to regret this, Stark,” Fury said, a thinly veiled threat. He held out his hand and they shook on it.

 

It was chaos in the morning. Tony called Pepper for the number of the glazier as soon as he knew she was awake. Of course, that necessitated telling her _why_ he needed the glazier’s number, which necessitated her telling Happy, who was decidedly _not_ happy at the gross breach of security Tony had neglected to inform him of. While Pepper was at work, Happy personally arranged for and oversaw the glass installation that arrived within an hour of him calling.

Whether he showed it or not, Tony was grateful he could rely on them to take care of it. Happy dealt with the glaziers first thing in the morning, as well as security clearance for all of the SHIELD medical staff, brought in to conduct their tests on a much more co-operative James Barnes. Once the tests were complete, the Avengers were out of the Tower at the Triskelion, in a very thorough debriefing with Fury, Coulson, and Hill, who knew bits and pieces of last night’s story but wanted the whole picture.

Tony recapped how JARVIS had alerted him to the security breach, the call from Fury, and his decision to put each floor on lockdown. The others described how they got to the laboratory floor, how so much glass got broken, and why.

“I thought Bucky—I mean, Sergeant Barnes—was a goner when he held the cube,” Steve explained. “When I was... when I fought the Red Skull for the last time, before I crashed his plane, the cube got dislodged from its casing. He picked it up and it opened a portal to another world. I saw Schmidt get sucked into it before my eyes. I thought the same might happen to Bucky.” _I’m glad it didn’t_ , he thought to himself.

“The Tesseract is not merely a source of energy,” Thor explained. “It is deep and powerful magic, often with a mind of its own. If this _Red Skull_ was as evil as you say, Captain, the Tesseract may have judged him accordingly. It is a great testament to the character of your friend that the Tesseract not only did not harm him but restored his memories.”

“His memories may be restored, but it doesn’t mean his brains are unscrambled, and he is still a liability,” Fury said.

Coulson immediately noticed the hurt expression on Captain America’s face and cut in more gently, “What he means to say is that Sergeant Barnes may have regained all of his memories, but some of his Soviet programming as the Winter Soldier has remained intact. In other words, the Red Room software is gone, but the hardware shell is in place. The tests from medical came back this morning, showing implants surgically placed into his brain. They’re connected to his cerebral cortex by a cocktail of chemicals first injected then perpetuated naturally by the brain tissue. It will take some time to figure out a way to successfully remove the implants without damaging him.”

“In the meantime,” Maria Hill picked up, “He’s prone to fits and outbursts of violence where he thinks he’s still the Winter Soldier and will try to fight us or escape. That’s why he has to be kept in containment. No one is to visit him without at least two SHIELD agents present in the room, who have the access criteria for the door lock.”

“So is the only thing left is to safely remove the implants? He won’t be a threat after that?” Bruce asked.

“Barnes will need to undergo multiple psychiatric evaluations at first, and some mandatory therapy, but yes. His memories are back and there’s no reason to think he won’t be fine after the implants come out,” Fury answered.

“In that case, I’d like to work on figuring out how to take out those implants. If your SHIELD doctors can send me the MRI scans and some blood and tissue samples, I can get started today.” Bruce may not have spent two days at Steve’s side in the Triskelion, but Steve was his friend and he wanted to help, any way he could.

“I’ll help Bruce,” Tony offered. His expertise in biochemistry was less than Bruce’s (though Tony outpaced him in engineering by far) but an extra hand couldn’t hurt.

Heads turned to him and then to Howard who said, “I will, too.” When Bruce gave him a puzzled look, Howard added, “Erskine taught me a few things about cellular biology too, you know.”

"Does that sound like a plan to you, Captain?" Fury asked in an attempt to draw Steve into the discussion. He had been quiet for most of the meeting.

"Yes, Sir," he nodded before returning his gaze to the glass tabletop.

Fury frowned but said no more. "In that case, the three of you had better get started. I think we've covered everything here. You are dismissed."

"Jane isn't going to like this," Tony said to himself, getting up from the table. The Winter Soldier mission had put their time machine work on hold, and this new project would set them back even further.

"I think she'll be okay," Howard replied. "She and Darcy have another project running that I'm sure she can occupy her time with."

Tony was surprised. "How come I didn't know about this?"

"Because you didn't ask her," Howard said with a grin.

"Okay. I'll meet you and Bruce back at the lab. I have to take care of some things here first," Tony waved them off. He waited for everyone to leave, until it was just him and Steve. He went over and rested his hand on Steve's shoulder, who was hunched forward in the chair, arms leaning on the table. "Hey. We didn't get a chance to talk earlier." Tony was too busy making security arrangements with Happy and SHIELD this morning before rushing to get to the Triskelion for another debrief. When Steve didn't reply, Tony lowered himself into the chair next to him. He pressed a kiss to Steve's cheek, saying, "Tell me what's going on inside that head of yours, sweetheart."

Steve didn't acknowledge the gesture, but he did sit back, blinking twice. "Bucky doesn’t wanna see me." More silence, and then, "I thought he was _dead_ , Tony. Then we found him again and he wasn't all there. Now he finally has his memories back and he won't even look at me.” Steve’s face crumpled and he rubbed at it, exhaustion showing in every line of his body. “You know what the worst part is? I don't blame him. I let him fall down a ravine, only to be captured by the Soviets and brainwashed for the next 70 years. _I_ was his commanding officer on that mission.  It was _my_ job to keep him safe and I didn't."

"That's bullshit and you know it, Rogers." Tony said it softly but there was an obvious bite to his words. "You didn’t _let_ him fall any more than I _let_ an alien species invade New York via Stark Tower portal. You did everything you possibly could. None of it was your fault. I don't know why Bucky won't see you, but I'll speak to Natasha. Maybe she can reason with him. Until then, try not to dwell on it. Why don't you come home and fill out the mission reports Fury assigned for homework?" he joked, trying to lighten the mood. Tony wanted him to fill out the paperwork because at least it would get Steve’s mind off Bucky for a while, and hopefully by the time he was finished (and by the stack of papers next to Steve, it looked like that could take all morning and the better part of the afternoon) Natasha would have worked her magic.

Steve considered him for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, okay."

“That means you have to get up,” Tony added when Steve didn’t move.

Steve got up like a zombie and through some miracle Tony managed to get him home and situated at the kitchen table, set up with paperwork and a pen. He didn’t leave until Steve started writing and then quickly went to find Natasha, though he had a pretty good idea of where she was.

Sure enough he found her in the “Hulk Lab” on floor 59, along with two other SHIELD agents keeping watch over Barnes, who was still classified as a prisoner a far as SHIELD was concerned.

“Tony, what are you doing here?” she asked upon seeing him.

“I’m here to see you, of course,” he said with a winning smile. “Can’t I see my favorite SHIELD assassin once in a while?”

“Don’t let Clint hear you say that, he thinks he’s your favorite,” Natasha answered with a smile before dropping the playful façade. “What do you really want?”

“A favor. If you hadn’t noticed from the moping this morning, Steve’s devastated because Barnes over there,” he gestured toward the chamber, “refuses to see him. You’re the only one Barnes will speak to. Can you just... _talk_ to the guy? Try to convince him to meet with Steve?”

Natasha considered his request. Steve was her friend, too. “Alright. I’ll try, but only for Steve’s sake. Don’t get your hopes up.”

Tony let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Thank you.” He took Natasha’s vacated seat while she approached the SHIELD agent standing guard by the door to the Hulk containment chamber. All of the Avengers, plus a few select SHIELD agents on guard duty, had been allowed access to the chamber, so Natasha easily passed the retinal scan and the thumbprint lock to open the door.

The thick adamantium and vibranium infused walls absorbed most of the sound, so Tony had no idea what Natasha and Barnes were saying. He watched nervously as the minutes ticked by, studying their facial expressions and body language for any clues as to the outcome of the discussion. Barnes was taught as a bowstring, a scowl on his face as he shook his head in response to Natasha. She was as calm and steady as she always was, a bit more warmth than usual in her gestures and expression.

Fifteen minutes later she emerged with a shake of her head. “He won’t budge.”

“Let me try,” Tony said.

She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Tony repeated the same procedure to unlock the door and entered the chamber. Since the room was designed to house the Hulk, the small corner where Barnes sat made him look comically small (or the room comically large). A memory foam mattress sat on the ground with no bed frame, and the only other furniture was a flimsy plastic card table and an even flimsier pair of plastic lawn chairs. Apparently SHIELD wasn’t taking any chances when it came to an outburst from Barnes.

“Who’re you?” Barnes asked, looking up at the sound of the door opening. “You remind me of Howard Stark. You two related or somethin’?”

Tony barely refrained from wincing, skirting around the question. “I’m Iron Man, but that’s not important.”

“Oh yeah? Then what is? Are you gonna give me the same speech as Natasha? ‘Cause I’m not interested,” he let out with a growl.

Tony ignored his question again and seated himself across from Barnes. His attitude made Tony’s hackles rise and before Tony knew what he was doing, “What a poor way to repay the only person who’s gone up to bat for you since we found you. Steve is the one who ordered us not to shoot you on sight, Steve is the one who convinced the Director not to have you handed over to the government for treason and espionage, and _Steve_ is the one who spent the past two days worrying about you and waiting in a SHIELD facility lobby while you were frothing at the mouth!”

The look of frustration on Barnes’ face was replaced with one of shock. “He really spent all day sittin’ around, waitin’ for...for the Winter Soldier? For me?”

“Yes! Though you’ve been nothing but trouble since this whole thing started—thanks for breaking _two_ of my windows, by the way—so I don’t know what he sees in you. You’re a shitty friend.”

This time Barnes laughed bitterly. “No kidding. I’ve been a shitty person since I fell off a train in Germany.” He paused. “The guards said I already had an outburst this morning, on the way back from the med lab. Don’t remember it. Safer this way.” He swallowed thickly, letting his head rest against the glass wall. He added with sad eyes, “Can’t hurt him if I can’t see him, right?”

Tony looked at him like he was nuts. “Steve doesn’t give a _flying fuck_ about that. Natasha and Fury had to _ban_ him from seeing you, he was so hell-bent on being there for every waking moment. Hell, I had to haul his ass out of a plane over Belgium because he didn’t want to leave! Even if you did have an outburst, at least he’d feel better being there for it, to protect _you_ from yourself.”

The room went quiet for a few minutes before Barnes said, “Steve, he’s... he’s got this sense of duty and honor. I mean, he’s _Captain America_ for chrissakes. He’s just... _good_ , you know?”

Tony did know. It was one of the best things about Steve. Orphaned from a young age, scrawny, weak, and picked on, Steve had experienced hardship early on in life. But the things that would turn most people bitter and hard, Steve persevered through instead. And he never lost his belief in doing the right thing, in having compassion for others and helping those he could. It was those qualities, not the strength or agility that the Super Soldier Serum gave him, that made Captain America who he was.

Barnes went on, “You know, he faked his enlistment form five times, he was so keen to fight. At first I thought he was just stupid, or naïve, but that’s not it. He knows what he’s doin’, he’s seen a lota bad stuff in the war, and he’s _still_ got that goodness in him. He never lost his way. And I...,” Barnes shook his head, “I’ve killed a lot of people—some of ‘em _innocent_ —over the years. I got too much blood on my hands. Done things I wish I hadn’t. Things I want to forget. He can’t see me like this.”

“ _That’s_ why you’re in a tizzy?” Tony couldn’t believe this guy, or how selfish he could be. “Look, I’m not a priest or your therapist. It’s not my job to reason you out of that stupid line of thinking. But even if _you_ believe all that, if you know Steve at all, you’d know he doesn’t give a shit about that. All he cares about is seeing _you_. So are you going to let him care about you, or push him away? It’s your choice, Barnes.”

Barnes was silent for at least another five minutes before he said, “I’ll think about it.” There was an air of finality in his tone, and Tony knew the conversation was over. He walked out without a word.

“How’d it go?” Natasha asked.

“He said he’d _think_ about it.” Tony almost added, “the little bastard,” but Barnes was someone Natasha shad a history with and he wanted to keep his life, thank you very much.

She shrugged. “It’s better than nothing. I’ll let you know if he changes his mind.”

“Alright, thanks.”

Just as Tony was about to head up to see Bruce, who had moved to a lab better equipped to study the mental implants, he was stopped by a call from Pepper.

“Where are you, Tony? The board meeting starts in five minutes and you need to be here. I can’t explain last night’s security breach _all_ on my own.”

Right. The board meeting. Tony had forgotten completely. He said with a sigh, “Heading down now, Pep.”

 

Tony was exhausted after the two and a half hour long board meeting and all he wanted to do was grab a late lunch when Natasha called. He considered ignoring it, but then picked up anyway.

“He says he’ll see Steve.”

Tony froze for a moment before collecting himself. “We’ll be right up.”

He went as fast as the elevator would allow, from the office to the main living floor. Steve had plowed through the paperwork and only a few forms remained.

“Tony? Is everything okay?” Steve asked, sensing something was off with him.

“Yeah, everything’s great. I came to get you—you’re needed in the Hulk Lab. ‘Someone’ wants to see you.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Steve’s whole face lit up, happier than Tony had seen him since this whole ordeal began.

Steve was a ball of nervous energy as they took the elevator down to the 59th floor. Once they arrived, everything was a blur. Steve moved quickly to the lab, going through the retinal scan and thumbprint process and entering the chamber. Tony watched as both Steve and Barnes seemed to freeze for a minute, unsure of how to react, before they embraced each other, laughing and crying all the while. Tony felt something in his chest tighten, but he pushed it away, instead choosing to be happy that Steve was reunited with his friend at last.


	11. Chapter 11

Tony left shortly after that and went back down to the office to see what else Pepper needed him for. By the time dinner rolled around, he was famished, realizing that he had skipped lunch entirely.

It was Avenger’s team night and Tony found Jane and Thor cooking in the kitchen when he arrived. Technically it was Thor’s turn to cook, but his cooking skills were poor enough to rival Tony’s. Thankfully, Jane relegated him to chopping up vegetables while she did the actual cooking, which turned out to be salad, mashed potatoes, and a roast—Thor’s favorite, right after Pop-Tarts. At the same time, Darcy was arranging chocolate chip cookie dough on a baking sheet.

“Hi Tony,” both Jane and Darcy said.

“Greetings, Tony!” Thor called in his usual cheerful manner.

“Smells great,” Tony nodded to the food being prepared over the kitchen island stovetop. Jane thanked him happily while he snuck a scoop of batter when Darcy wasn’t looking. “Did Thor fill you in on our late night visitor?”

Both women nodded, while Thor boomed, “I did indeed recount the previous night’s events and the news of Steve’s brother-in-arms to Jane and Darcy.”

Turning toward Jane, Tony said around a mouthful of cookie dough, “So you know _Project: Time Traveler_ is on hold until we get this sorted out, right? Howard said you had another experiment you could work on in the meantime.”

“I do! Well, I did. I’m at a road block right now,” she explained. “It’s for the Bifrost, but it also has to do with the time machine. I’ve theorized that we can use vibranium to stabilize the quantum tunnel effect, instead of iridium, and it will give us greater control over one, closing the portal, and two, locking in the right coordinates. The only problem is that there’s not enough vibranium in the world to test my theory with so...” she shrugged helplessly.

“Not a problem,” Tony said, watching her add butter and milk to the mashed potatoes. “I’ll have some shipped down from my facility in Westchester.”

“Really?” Jane looked up from her task, excited by the prospect. “You have a stock of vibranium? And you’d share it with me?!”

“Yeah, no biggie. I’ve made some in my basement before, but I’ve got an R&D lab working on a more cost-effective production method upstate. It shouldn’t be a problem to ship down. How much do you need?”

“About a quarter of a kilogram?” she guessed.

“Done.” He handed Darcy a business card, with instructions on the back for who she was to ask for and said, “If you call them tomorrow, ask for Marjorie. She’ll get you set up.”

“Thank you, Tony, I don’t know what to say!” Jane gushed, excited by the prospect of having _any_ vibranium at all.

He waved her off. “It’s the least I can do. I expect, Bruce, Howard, and I will be tied up with SHIELD work for a while.”

When more Avengers trickled in, Tony noticed that Steve was still missing. He had a good guess of where Steve was and Natasha confirmed that he was still with Barnes. It was highly uncharacteristic for Steve to miss Avengers’ nights. After all, he was the one who started the tradition, but since the arrival of one Bucky Barnes, things hadn’t been so normal around the Tower. They could let it slide.

Tony started when he saw Bruce and Howard take their seats at the kitchen table. “Bruce! I completely forgot about the lab! I had to check on a couple things and then there was this board meeting I actually had to go to and—”

“Don't worry about it,” Bruce said, waving Tony off. He picked up the salad bowl that was being passed around and dished some onto his plate. “We didn’t do much today.”

“Any luck so far?” Jane asked.

Howard shook his head. “Not yet. For 1950s technology, those implants are one heck of a doozy.”

Bruce nodded in agreement. “I hate to say it, but I think even _I_ might be out of my depth here. I wish I could talk to Betty. She might be able to help figure it out,” he said wistfully.

“There's no way General Ross would let you near her,” Clint snorted.

“Thanks for reminding me,” Bruce deadpanned. There was an unstated agreement between SHIELD and the Army that as long as Bruce didn’t go near Ross’ daughter Betty, General Ross wouldn't go after him.

“Wait, Ross? Like Dr. Betty Ross?” Darcy piped up.

“Yeah,” Bruce looked up, surprised. “Do you know her?”

“Chyeah, I do,” said Darcy with an air of “duh, of course,” to it.

“But Dr. Ross is a professor in the _natural_ science department at Culvert, not the _political_ science department. When did you meet her, Darcy?” Jane asked, confused.

Darcy explained, “Animal Bio 101. Dr. Ross was the best science profs I ever had at Culvert. Not that I had many. Hey, I did my time, got my six science credits, and went straight back to Comparative Politics II!”

“How well would you say you know her?” Tony asked. A plan was forming in his mind.

Darcy shrugged as if to say, “What kind of a question is that?” She went on, “I liked her. Dr. Ross let us do the coolest experiments in lab. She wasn’t just a boring science teacher. She made it interesting for the non-science majors, too. Like, she had all these theories on how biological imperatives could have shaped primitive cultures and our modern societal norms, which was super-cool. We used to talk about it during office hours when I needed help with my final project. Nice lady.”

“How do you think she'd feel about helping one of her favorite students with another science project of their own?” Tony said with a grin.

“Oh no, Tony,” Bruce objected. “Tell me you're not serious.”

“Why, what's he talking about?” Darcy asked, looking between the two of them.

“Former students visit their professors all the time, Bruce,” Tony argued. “And if one of them happens to be bringing a tissue sample and test read-outs of a certain former Winter Soldier, there's still nothing dangerous about that.”

“You want me to be the go-fer?” Darcy said, finally picking up the thread of the conversation.

“You want _Darcy_ to be the go-fer?” Jane repeated, a little incredulous.

Darcy shot her a dirty look. “Hey! When was the last time I messed up ordering your venti mocha latte with a shot of espresso, no sugar? I'm the best go-fer there is!”

“Even if she did deliver the samples to Betty, it would take weeks of correspondence to figure it out. Darcy can’t fly back and forth to Culvert all the time,” Bruce protested.

“Well actually, I was thinking she could deliver a laptop, too. A secure, StarkTech programmed laptop with a satellite link to an even more secure, encrypted Stark satellite so that you two can talk over a VoIP interface.”

“Tony, that's—”

“—Brilliant? I know.”

“I was going to say risky. If the wrong person hacks into those calls....”

“They won't. JARVIS and I can monitor every call in real time, if it makes you feel better.”

“And you have all of this set-up?” Bruce challenged disbelievingly.

Tony shrugged. “I was waiting for the right moment to tell you. I knew you'd be obstinate.”

Meanwhile, Howard turned to Clint and whispered, “What's VoIP?” Thor also furrowed his brow, interested in the answer.

“Voice over Internet Protocol. It's like the Skype program you and Steve use to talk to Peggy.”

At Thor’s still puzzled look, Jane explained, “It's like the video conferencing you do with Fury while you’re still here at the tower. So you not only hear someone’s voice but see their face, too.”

“Ah! That seems a most creative way to reunite our friend Doctor Banner with the lover he has been most egregiously parted from!”

Bruce actually choked on his water, which caused him to go into a minute-long coughing fit. When he recovered he protested, “We're not lovers, Thor. I haven't spoken to Betty in… _years_." He said the last part sadly.

“Aye, but true love knows no bounds of time or space. At long last these two misfortunate lovers will be reunited! You will see, Doctor Banner.”

Thor seemed so convinced of this that Bruce didn't see the point in correcting him again.

“This is all well and good, but the young lady, Miss Lewis here, cannot go all by herself,” Howard argued reasonably. “For a covert operation like this, she will need back-up.”

“I'll go,” Clint spoke up. “I'm already trained for covert work, and I can protect her if anything goes south. Not that I think it will, this is all pretty straightforward. But if Tony is monitoring the calls on this end, I should be there on Dr. Ross' end, in case somebody gets wind of what's going on or tries to manipulate her.”

Tony nodded. “Good call, Clint.”

“This is way cool! It’s like being in a spy movie!” Darcy grinned. Turning to Jane, “How come you know so many cool people, Jane? And how come they hang out with _you?_ ”

“Hey! I can be lots of fun!” Jane protested. She looked to Thor for back-up, “Isn’t that right?”

“I do enjoy your company most thoroughly, my Lady!” Thor agreed with a smile.

Darcy shot him a look. “Traitor.”

Their cheerful banter dominated the rest of the meal, and managing to rope everyone into their antics. It was a welcome distraction from the stressful past few days, and a respite for what was sure to come.

 

Later that night, just as Tony was wondering whether or not Steve would sleep in his room, Steve came in.

Tony looked up from his StarkPad and greeted him. “We missed you at team night.”

Steve blushed, a guilty look on his face. “Yeah. I uh, I was with Bucky. We were catching up. Didn’t think the team would mind.”

Tony waved him off; they’d all skipped out on a team night at one point or another, and Steve had an iron-clad reason, beside.

“Thank you, by the way,” Steve sat down on Tony’s side of the bed, his weight dipping the mattress slightly. He pressed his lips to Tony’s with no small amount of gratitude.

“Mmm?”

“For talking to Bucky. Natasha says you’re the reason he agreed to see me. And I _know_ you’re the reason Bucky’s here and not locked up at SHIELD. I can’t thank you enough.” Steve pulled him into a bone-crushing hug, burying his face in Tony’s shoulder for a time. After a while he pulled away and said, “There’s something else I gotta tell you. Natasha and I, we think that Bucky is more stable when one of us is in the room with him. We’re gonna set up a schedule so that one of us always there with him. If it works, I might not be around for a while, until it gets fixed.”

“Oh,” Tony said. He pushed away his disappointment, instead putting on a smile for Steve, “Of course. Whatever you have to do, Steve. Bruce is working on it, and we’re bringing in some outside help. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

“Okay. Thanks,” Steve kissed him again, this time tenderly and sweet.

Tony was a little put-out when Steve said he was too tired for anything more frisky, but it _had_ been a long day, for both of them, and surely there would be time once things went back to normal. At least this time, he fell asleep spooning against Steve, safely ensconced in his warm embrace.

 

In the morning, they called a full team meeting with Agent Coulson to discuss Tony’s plan that would put Bruce in touch with Betty to find a solution for Barnes’ implant problem. Tony was the most surprised of all when Coulson not only agreed to the plan, but hinted that there was no need to bring it to Fury’s attention. He hadn’t expected the agent to go along with his scheme so easily, but then again, there was no one present who didn’t consider Steve a friend. They all wanted to help out in their own way. Bruce was working directly to counteract the Soviet programming, Clint was going on the mission to help him, Natasha was on extensive babysitting duty with Steve, Thor was, interestingly, helping Steve with paperwork while they reviewed the pages and pages of SHIELD questions for Barnes, and Tony was already thinking of making Barnes a new bionic arm. If Coulson was showing his solidarity with Cap by approving the mission, who was Tony to argue?

As a SHIELD agent, Clint was the perfect escort for Darcy and his cover as her boyfriend wasn’t even untrue. He escorted Darcy there and stayed with her while she made contact with Dr. Ross to hand over the materials. To uphold the pretense that Darcy was asking for her help on a project, both Darcy and Clint stayed to monitor Betty's end of the secure transmissions. Clint acted as a bodyguard in the unlikely event that someone undesirable, like the General or his men, got wind of Betty’s contact with Bruce.

For his part, Bruce was overjoyed to "see" Betty again over the video link. And it was clear that despite whatever he said to Thor, Bruce was still madly in love with Betty. He tried to hide it while the video link was turned on, but in Tony’s opinion, he didn’t quite succeed. Not that Betty did any better in that department, both of them dancing around their obvious feelings for each other.

True to his word, Tony monitored every connection between them for any attempted hacking of the satellite connection, but that wasn't to say he sat around in Bruce's lab while the man made googly eyes at Betty. Tony had JARVIS display a live feed for him while he spent his time in his workshop.

Once Dr. Ross was brought in on the project, they redistributed the workload. Bruce and Betty collaborated together on de-programming the Winter Soldier while Tony and Howard set to work building Barnes a new arm. Tony had, after all, destroyed his old one when they brought Barnes in.

It was a new experience working with his dad on this kind of project. Repairing the Iron Man suit with him was different; Iron Man was Tony's project and his dad only helped him put the pieces back together. This time, they were reconstructing a metal arm from scratch, which was a combination of both mechanics and electronics, as they had to build parts that could connect and respond to the neuron signals in Barnes' shoulder. The project was more collaborative than the Iron Man suit, with back and forth brainstorming, and Tony could count on his hands the number of times his dad had taken the time to work on a project with him when he was little. He found that it was nice working with his dad now that Howard had his act together.

The first few days, there wasn't a lot of room for idle chatter, as most of the work involved drafting pattern pieces or otherwise using loud machinery to cut out the raw pieces and weld them together.

But afterwards, there was a lot of intricate and tedious work adding joints and laying in circuitry that would allow the arm to respond to neural commands. With this kind of labor, there was ample time to work and talk simultaneously.

Tony was slowly starting to feel more comfortable spending time with his dad, and so, it was toward the end of the week that he decided to ask the questions he had wanted answers to for years now, ever since his kidnapping in Afghanistan.

“Hey Dad?” he opened with.

“Yes, Tony?”

“You said you were based in London with the SSR during the war. With everything going on there, how did you have time to work on the Manhattan Project?” If Tony didn’t know better he could have sworn he saw his dad freeze up for a minute before he relaxed again.

“By not sleeping,” Howard said wryly. Trying for a casual tone, he went on, “When I wasn’t outfitting Steve’s team or trying to analyze HYDRA’s weapons—which I now realize were based on alien technology, no wonder they were so advanced—I corresponded with the guys in Los Alamos. With the time zone changes, I didn’t spend much time sleeping. Men were dying. I had to figure out a way to stop it, to stop the war. A little sleep wasn’t such a big sacrifice, not when Steve was out in the field, up against who knew what. Anyway, when Steve—after his plane went down, they shipped me back to the States. I barely had time to say goodbye. We had a memorial service in London for him, just the Commandos, Phillips, Peggy, and I. The government brought a car around at the end, drove me to the nearest air field, and stuck me on a plane. The next thing I knew I was on US soil, shaking hands with Oppenheimer.”

Tony was quiet for a minute, and then asked his next question with some trepidation. “Why’d you do it? Why’d you work on the project?”

It was Howard’s turn to fall quiet before he finally said, “Because it was interesting work. It sounds like a terrible reason, but that’s the truth. I know atomic energy is old hat by now, but we were on the cutting edge of technology back then. It was the _future_ , and we were living it.” Howard stopped what he was doing and looked up from his work. “I don’t think any one of us truly grasped the magnitude of how terrible, how destructive it would be. God, we didn’t even know about the radiation poisoning.” He shook his head.

And here was the question Tony had been waiting years to ask. “If you had known, if you had realized, would you have still done it?”

“No.” The word was immediate and resolute, brooking no argument. “If helping the Super Soldier Serum succeed was the best thing I did during the war, working on the Manhattan Project was the worst. Steve was dead, our boys were still dying, and I just wanted to end the war. I wanted to bring peace. I didn’t realize my research, my mistake, would cost so many innocent lives.” There was nothing Tony could really say to that and the minutes ticked by in silence, both of them having left their metal work on the bench for some time. “Tell me, does Stark Industries still fund the Radiation Effects Research Foundation?”

“Yeah,” Tony let out a breathy sound. “We do.” Tony wanted to let it go, he could see his dad was becoming distressed, but he couldn’t. He needed to know, “If you’re so against this now, then why did you—why did Stark Industries—” Tony cut himself off as he could hear the anger in his own voice rising. Whether it was directed toward his father, himself, or both he didn’t know.

“—continue to make weapons?” Howard finished for him with a mirthless laugh. “Your grandfather still controlled SI in those days. I was just an employee. Believe me, I tried to change his mind—we got into fisticuffs over it—but he would not budge. Me? I tried to keep my head down, work on robotics and electronics, and let him figure out how it was going to make a better missile. Then the Korean War came and SI got bigger and bigger military contracts. By the time Dad handed the company over to me in the ‘60s, I had made my bed and it was time for me to lie in it.” With an air of sadness he continued, “All I ever wanted was peace, and a better future for everyone. _That’s_ why I worked with Vanko on energy technology. _That’s_ why I started SHIELD with the Commandos and Peggy.” With a rough voice he added, “I can never make up for what I did, but a man has to try, doesn’t he?”

Those words hit Tony like a punch to the gut. He closed his eyes, thinking of his own mistakes. Turning a blind eye to Obadiah. Letting SI weapons get into the hands of terrorists. Creating “smarter weapons” to begin with. As if a better satellite targeting system could justify building missiles in the first place.

For all the good he had done as Iron Man, all the people he’d saved, he could still see so clearly in his mind images of whole villages and towns destroyed by Stark Weapons, the broken, mangled bodies lying plainly in the dirt roads: men and women with terrified expressions frozen on their faces, mothers and fathers covering the bodies of their children, still trying to protect them even in death. There wasn’t enough he could do and there would _never_ be enough he could do to atone for what he’d done. But like Sisyphus rolling a stone uphill, he still tried, every day, every time he put on the suit. Tony knew exactly how his dad felt.

Swallowing thickly, he looked up and answered, “Yeah. Yeah, he does.”

And maybe his dad didn’t know the how or the why of it, but he seemed to understand Tony’s meaning all the same.

 

It was JARVIS, on the request of Bruce, who called Tony and Howard for dinner not long after that, which was good because neither of them really wanted to keep working on the bionic arm after their conversation. Normally, Tony would have gone to talk to Steve about it, but he wasn’t there at dinner again, no doubt spending time his time with Barnes. Tony also considered bringing it up with Bruce, but for once he looked so happy—he was practically _glowing_ after his working session with Betty—that Tony didn’t have the heart to bring down his mood. Instead, Tony skipped dinner and headed up to the office, hoping to catch Pepper on her way out but it turned out she had left early to catch a red-eye to Malibu.

Feeling like he had no one to talk to, Tony considered locking himself in his workshop and drinking himself stupid, but he hesitated. He had promised Steve he’d try not to do that as often as he used to, and even though he was a little resentful of all the time Steve was spending with Barnes, he still loved Steve and a promise was a promise.

Instead, he put on the suit and spent the evening flying high over the island of Manhattan and the Long Island Sound. He did loop-arounds, creating a shower of sparks in his wake. He dived low and then shot up like a rocket as fast as he dared. Tony flew himself all the way to Boston, landing briefly in Faneuil Hall Marketplace, before flying back to New York, whirling and looping in the night sky. No doubt there were already pictures and videos of his impromptu excursion online, but what was the point of being Iron Man if you couldn’t have a little fun with the suit?

The joyride had certainly done its job of distracting Tony from some of his demons and it put him in a much better mood than before. He was even humming a low tune by the time he reached his bedroom and turned on the shower to wash up. Joyride or not, piloting the suit was hard work (no matter what Clint joked) and even with the new cooling system, being confined inside certainly made him sweat.

It wasn't until he toweled off and made his way to the bed did he realize that Steve, who was almost always in bed by now, wasn't there at all.

 

In the end, it took a little less than a week for Betty and Bruce to crack the code on the mental implants. The process was twofold: the implants, which were made of an organic material programmed to create and secrete certain chemicals, were physically attached to nerves and tissues in the brain, which would require careful surgical extraction. The second part was in the chemicals secreted, which were designed to help retain and re-inforce the Red Room programming. Bruce and Betty had worked out an injectable replacement serum that Barnes could be weaned off of in another week, which was perfect as far as timing went, because Tony and Howard were still working on completing Barnes' new arm.

The mechanics of the arm were finished the same day Barnes underwent surgery at a secure SHIELD facility, with Bruce in the room directing the procedure as a trained neurosurgeon did the actual cutting and snipping. The surgery was a success, no major complications, but the trouble came as they weaned him off the drugs. In the first few days, he lashed out several times, even with Natasha or Steve in the room. It took both of them with him at the same time, for things to calm down. He was lucid by the fourth day that Natasha and Steve could go back to switching off, giving the other a much needed break.

While Barnes spent the week undergoing withdrawal from the Red Room drugs, Tony and Howard finished wiring and improving some of the circuitry so that it would better respond to neural commands once it was attached to the nerve endings in Barnes’ arm.

At present, Tony was pulling up the military registration form, complete with fingerprints, for a _Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, ID No. 32557_ , while he waited for his dad to return with a hand imprint. They were working on a flexible synthetic skin covering made of a carbon polymer to cover the metal frame. Creating the ridges and grooves in the palm and fingertips would allow for a better grip on a variety of objects, and though the sensory in the hand would be limited to hot, cold, and some basic variations in pressure, Tony was hoping to improve on it in the next upgrade. The goal was to eventually be able to market the prosthetics at an affordable (or discounted, for veterans) price as the next latest and greatest invention from Stark Industries.

Just then, Howard came striding through the door carrying the clay mold. “I got you the imprint, son, but it'll take some time to dry before you can work with it.”

“No need, Dad,” Tony shook his head. “Just put it on the workbench over there. I'm going to have JARVIS scan it.” It was a pity Barnes wasn't allowed out of the Hulk chamber yet—Tony could have scanned his hand directly. Maybe next time.

“Scan it?”

“Just watch,” Tony said over his shoulder, still looking at the computer screens in front of him. “JARVIS, can you perform a full scan vacu-form of the hand, and overlay it with the projection of the fingerprints?”

“Very well, sir.”

This was the fun part. Tony watched Howard's eyes widen dramatically as JARVIS scanned the clay mold, creating a full holograph projection of the piece in glowing blue detail. Tony grinned. “You like it?”

“That's amazing, Tony!” Howard cried.

“This is how I figured out the configuration for the vibranium atom. I had JARVIS perform a low-grade scan on your '74 Expo model so that I could play around with the arrangement. What would have taken a couple of days to figure out with the physical model, took me less than an hour with the projection.”

Howard beamed. “You never stop surprising me, kid.”

“Scan and overlay complete, sir,” JARVIS broke in, and Tony looked away, focusing on the screen in front of him.

“Alright. Just give me a couple of minutes to integrate the pieces.” He sat down at the computer and opened up what looked like an advanced version of Photoshop that he had programmed for high-tech image editing in 3D. He barely used it, but it was pretty helpful at times like this when JARVIS wasn't able to do the fine-tune image integration of the two. The idea was that the handprint would fill in whatever details the military fingerprints didn't cover, so that the skin covering would look as close as possible to Barnes' real hand had been before.

The next ten minutes passed in silence until Tony got the prints aligned where he wanted them to be. “Okay, since this is effectively a mirror of where the ridges and grooves are supposed to be, JARVIS, kindly invert the image and send it to the printer. This baby is ready to go.”

They lapsed into silence as the 3D printer whirred to life, laying out the first rows of the organic compound in an arm-shaped arrangement.

Watching the printer carefully, Tony asked his dad another question he’d been wondering for some time now, “You said you spent a lot of time during the war with the Commandos. What were they like? Steve and Bucky, I mean?”

Howard laughed, watching the printer work. “Nearly inseparable and as thick as thieves. If they didn’t have to be apart, they weren’t. We used to joke that they were stuck together. Do you remember the story of Captain America’s first rescue?”

“The one where you flew Captain America behind enemy lines and he freed 400 prisoners?”

“That’s right. He went on that mission because he discovered Barnes was missing, possibly dead. Steve wanted to rescue him or at least bring the body back. He defied Colonel Phillips’ orders to do it, too,” Howard snorted.

“Oh,” Tony said hollowly, with the painful realization that Steve must have cared about Bucky a _lot_ , maybe even loved him,to fly into enemy airspace by himself with no combat experience and no back-up for a rescue. Then, because it seemed like the logical thing to follow up with, “Was he disciplined?”

“Nah. Phillips let it slide. I think he was just relieved to have his Super Soldier _and_ most of his fighting force back. ‘Course, SI being the number one military contractor for the Army, I got off with a slap on the wrist.” The 3D printer polished off the last few rows of printing before returning to its default rest position. “I’ll bring the arm and the glue over. Let’s get to work.”

As they worked on joining the skin cover with the arm, Tony mulled over the information Howard had given him. From the very moment Steve knew the Winter Soldier was Bucky Barnes, he had been deeply affected by Barnes’ sudden presence. Tony thought of all the days and nights Steve must have been spending with Barnes, the myriad sketches Steve had drawn of Bucky with a certain care to them, and now the fact that they’d been inseparable during the war.

If someone were to accuse Tony of being jealous, they’d be absolutely right. Ever since James Barnes showed up and neatly slot himself back into Steve’s life, Tony felt like his relationship with Steve had taken a backseat to Barnes.

The signs from the stories Howard shared and the clues he’d discovered himself along the way—the apartment they’d lived in before the war, the fact that they’d been inseparable during the war, and the way Steve talked about Bucky these days when he wasn’t with the man himself—were adding up to something Tony didn’t like. He tried to reason with himself; lots of guys were roommates and becoming close with your unit was important during a war. It was probably nothing. And really, Bucky was all Steve had now, what with Peggy in England and Howard soon to leave for another time. It made sense for Steve to spend time with Barnes, simultaneously keeping him from going berserk and introducing him to the parts of the 21st century he had missed. And as soon as Barnes was released from surveillance, Tony’s life with Steve could resume as usual.

 

The day of Barnes’ release from the Hulk chamber came just two days later, and a little over two and a half weeks since they captured Barnes on a rooftop in Europe. Technically, he was still in SHIELD custody, but he had moved into Steve’s room and was allowed a limited range of access within the Tower. Moreover, Bruce, Betty, and a gaggle of SHIELD doctors, interrogators, psychologists, and a consultant from Westchester declared the Winter Soldier fully deprogrammed and ready to receive his new arm.

Tony was setting up in his workshop when Steve arrived. In addition to Bucky and Howard, Steve, Natasha, and Agent Coulson were scheduled to attend the procedure in case of an incident. Truth be told, it made Tony a little twitchy to have so many people in his personal sanctuary at one time, but all of his tools were down here and it made more sense than lugging them up to the 59th floor.

“You’re early,” Tony said by way of greeting. 

“Wanted to see you first,” Steve replied, greeting him with a kiss. It felt off to him, the way a kiss felt after one of them returned from a long mission, the time apart creating unwanted distance between them. If Steve felt it, he appeared not to notice. Steve nodded to the bionic arm laid out on the workshop bench and said, “I really appreciate you doin’ this for Bucky.”

Tony shrugged. “No biggie. I owe him a replacement and really, he’s doing me a favor. Once I can work out the kinks in his prototype, Stark Industries can market these.”

“Selling a new invention isn’t the reason you did it.” Steve shook his head. “Getting Bruce and Dr. Ross to take apart the programming? Convincing Fury to keep Bucky here and not at SHIELD? And now this? I know why you did it,” he said. The unspoken, ‘ _You did it for me_ ,’ hung between them. “You don’t know how much this means to me. Thank you, Tony.”

“Anything for you, you know that.” Of course Tony had secondary motivations—reuniting Bruce and Betty, sneaking intel on the SHIELD agents, and marketing SI’s first line of prostheses—but Steve was right. Tony did it, first and foremost, out of love for Steve.

He just hoped Steve still loved _him_.

Tony had only seen Steve a handful of times in the past two weeks. He could count on one hand the number of nights they’d slept in the same bed, and he didn’t need any hands to count the number of times they’d had sex since Barnes arrived.

“I missed you,” Steve said tentatively, quiet and small. It was like he read Tony’s mind.

When he heard Steve’s words, relief flooded through him. Steve still loved him after all. How could he be so foolish as to think otherwise? Tony echoed softly, “Missed you too.”

It was all Steve needed to pull Tony up for a deep, passionate kiss, a searing heat that was part gratitude, admiration, and love, mixed in with lust. Tony kissed back, wanting more and more of the wet heat of Steve’s mouth, but then Steve broke the contact, gesturing to the elevator that was beyond the glass walls. Tony turned around to see the elevator light illuminate before the doors opened, revealing Howard, Agent Coulson, Bucky, and Natasha.

They filed in and Howard came around to stand next to Tony while Barnes sat down in a workshop chair indicated for him and the others stood on either side of him. Tony and his dad outlined the procedure in tandem, explaining how they would start connecting the wiring in their new, upgraded metal socket to the nerve endings in his shoulder. Then they would connect the arm itself, which would, “hurt like a motherfucker, so we'll need to strap you down for that,” according to Tony.

At the end of their speech, Barnes said, “I gotta hand it to you, Howard. You were always outfitting us with the best gear in the field and you haven't changed a bit. Thanks, pal.”

"I have to give credit to my son, who was really the inspiration behind the design. If not for his armored suit, it would have taken us another couple of weeks to come up with this," Howard said, clapping Tony on the shoulder. If Tony glowed with pride from his dad’s approval, what of it? It was a welcome change of pace to hear his dad openly praise him.

Barnes thanked Tony, too, although it was a little awkward because Tony felt like he was being sized up at the same time. And Tony didn't know him well; the last time he’d spoken to Barnes was to persuade him to talk to Steve.

“Figured I owed you a replacement since I busted your last one,” Tony shrugged. “Besides, it's the prototype for a new line of Stark Industries products: bionic prostheses!”

“Right, new Stark tech.” Barnes gave him a thin lipped smile. “Alright, let's get this over with.”

Steve, Natasha, and even Coulson, kept up a stream of conversation to relieve the silent tension as Howard and Tony fitted the socket wiring to Barnes’ shoulder. It wasn't long before they were ready to connect the arm itself. Howard cleared a workbench and they laid Barnes out on the table with Steve, Natasha, and Coulson holding him down tightly.

“I know you like to play strong and silent for the ladies, Barnes, but don’t keep it in. Yell if you need to. This is going to hurt,” Howard warned him as they moved the arm into place.

“On the count of three,” Tony directed. “One... two... three!”

Barnes let out a deep holler that filled the room and echoed off the walls, making a cacophony of noise even in the large space. Steve, Natasha, and Coulson held him down, even though Steve wanted to let go and tell Tony to stop the procedure. But it was over in a matter of seconds, leaving Barnes panting heavily on the workbench.

“Did it work?” Howard asked while Tony looked on, both of them eager to see the results of their hard work.

Barnes bent his arm in response, first testing the elbow joint, then flexing his fingers back and forth. “What did you do to this thing?” he cried out in awe. Moving the upper arm he added, “It even flexes in the bicep, like a real muscle!”

“Well, there’s at least one neural connection that’s working,” Howard said. “Feeling up to a few more tests, Barnes?”

“You betcha.”

Tony and Howard put him through test after test with JARVIS recording the results. First they made sure each of the connections worked and that the metal muscles flexed and released properly. Then they measured strength, torque, range of motion, and a whole array of elements that quickly became tedious. After some time had passed, Howard pronounced, “Only one more test left.”

“And that is...?” Barnes asked, huffing with annoyance.

“Don’t give me that look, you’ll like this one. It’s an integrated situational reaction test.” At a room-full of blank looks aside from Tony, he clarified, “It means you get to fight Steve in the gym.”

“Not before I do,” Natasha protested, “He and I have a score to settle. I’ve got first dibs on you, Yashenka.”

Bucky laughed, a full rich sound with warmth around the edges. “You still bitter about that? Natashenka, I _told_ you, it was to teach y—”

“I don’t care about the result. Or that you cheated to get it,” she shook her head, “But you promised me another round and never delivered. And I’m holding you to that.”

“Okay. Well if you’re sure you can beat me...” he trailed off with a smirk.

“As sure as I can drink you under the table,” she returned.

“That was _one time_!” he protested.

“Alright let’s get you two up to the gym,” Howard roped them up and directed them toward the stairs. “I’m sure Agent Coulson has other things he needs to do after this.”

Steve and Tony followed, with Coulson bringing up the rear. They made their way to the gym where they observed the new bionic arm in sharp form, with Barnes first sparring against Natasha and then against Steve.

Tony was glad that Howard and JARVIS recorded most of the data because he was too caught up in the interaction between Barnes and Steve to pay much attention to anything else. Every once in a while Barnes would throw Steve off guard with a move that was clearly from his Red Room training, but for the most part the two moved like dancers, perfectly choreographed with one another in their blocks and strikes. It made sense that they knew each other’s sparring style—they had fought together in a war after all—but it hurt Tony something to see them so in sync with each other. Even after a few years of fighting together as Avengers, not even he and Steve were that in tune with each other.

Despite Steve’s admission of missing him, Tony’s doubts from earlier began to creep in again and stayed long after the sparring was finished. He tried and failed not to think about his doubts when the whole team plus Coulson went out to dinner to celebrate Barnes’ release from the Hulk chamber. And later that evening, when Steve made love to him, Tony felt like something was missing, that it was somehow more of an apology than a reunion from their time apart.


	12. Chapter 12

With _Mission: Winter Soldier_ wrapped up, Tony, Bruce, and Howard returned to working on the time machine with Jane. Things seemed to be going along nicely. In their absence, Jane had done some theoretical experiments running wormhole simulations, and she also tried experimenting with vibranium and how it could potentially affect the stability of an open wormhole. As her theory predicted, the vibranium was a better, more flexible stabilizer than the traditional iridium that left the wormhole open but was difficult to close afterward.

In an ironic reversal from before they’d gone to Brussels together for the Avengers mission, Tony and Howard started spending more time together in the time travel lab, working on the gross mechanics of the device that was in its final phase of construction, leaving Bruce and Jane free to input equations for the machine. After working together on the Iron Man suit and on Barnes’ bionic arm, it seemed like an almost natural extension to pass each other a blow torch or a voltage meter, bumping elbows as they tested resistors and capacitors.

Occasionally one of them asked for silence to concentrate on a particularly tricky task, but for the most part they passed their days with idle chatter, with Tony pre-filtering his answers so as not to give away too much information about the future, especially any part of it that his dad would come to live through. Tony usually deflected any leading questions by asking his dad about the war or his work for SHIELD. Howard never disappointed; he seemed to have dozens of stories, some funny, others dangerous, all of them entertaining.

“You never told me why you got stuck in a SHIELD safehouse with Aunt Peggy,” Tony prompted one day. He’d been wondering about that ever since his dad had mentioned it on his second day here.

Howard burst out laughing, before calming down. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing. It’s not a funny story at all and we could have been killed, but it was a heck of a week.” Then he settled in to an explanation, “We went undercover to extract information on the Soviets about their weapons and black ops programs. Well, your Aunt Peggy went undercover—it was sort of her specialty—and I went as myself to a world science conference in Moscow. Everyone who was anyone got an invite, not just scientists and inventors from the Soviet satellite states, but from the NATO countries too.” Howard paused recalling something. “I met Ivan Vanko there for the first time. He’s—”

“—the guy who worked on the vibranium arc reactor with you,” Tony finished for him. Howard looked at him, surprised Tony knew. “Fury might have told me a thing or two.”

His dad nodded. “Nick was a Junior Agent back then.”

The image of a tall, imposing, and commanding Nick Fury as anything _but_ the director of SHIELD, let alone a Junior Agent, was a weird sort of cognitive dissonance for Tony. He couldn’t imagine it.

“Ah, I’m getting off track,” said Howard. “Where was I? Oh yes, the mission in Russia. Like I said, Peggy went undercover, playing the role of my personal assistant. After the conference was over, we snuck away and got the information, but we ran into trouble on the way to the exit. Peggy got hurt in the crossfire, a bullet wound to the shoulder. I didn’t have much time, so I headed for the nearest safehouse run by SHIELD, deep in enemy territory. The Soviets looked for us but they didn’t have our faces, so they gave up fairly quickly.”

“That doesn’t explain why you spent a week watching _Doctor Who_ in the safehouse.”

“Oh,” Howard laughed again, recalling the incident. “The caretaker of the safehouse loved the show. He had another agent bring him recordings on reels, and since all of the other television programs were in Russian, we watched it the whole week while Peggy’s shoulder healed up.”

Tony was surprised. It was only a few years ago he heard from Fury that his dad founded SHIELD, but he never knew his dad ran field missions, too. He learned a lot, personal details and things he wouldn’t have known otherwise, just from talking with his old man. It made him realize how much he had missed out on, how much they had both missed out on, because of their distant relationship when Tony was younger. He was glad they were able catch up on missed opportunities here and now.

 

If Tony was starting to feel closer to his dad, he was also feeling more distant from Steve. Outside of nighttime in bed with him, Tony hardly saw Steve. SHIELD was finally starting their interrogation—ahem, _information gathering_ —of Barnes, and Steve went with him to the Triskelion day after day, present for each grueling information session as he promised he would be. But he was spending his off-hours with Barnes, too. Every time Tony walked into the main living floor, he was greeted to the sight of Steve and Barnes, whether they were reliving old times with Tony’s dad or inviting Clint, Darcy, and Natasha to help Steve acquaint Barnes with any history he had missed, which somehow often involved lots of alcohol and Natasha drinking everyone (except Cap) under the table. This afternoon, it looked like they were arm wrestling with Thor while Jane and Bruce looked on.

“Hi Tony!” Jane waved him over, gesturing to the seat next to her. As he came over, Tony took note of Steve and Thor, who were currently in the midst of an arm wrestling match, both of them equally matched and neither making much progress. Tony took his seat while Jane explained what was going on. “Well, Steve, Thor, and Bucky all have super-strong arms because of one thing or another, right? We thought we should have a contest to see who has the most strength. So far, Thor is winning.”

“That’s because he’s a dirty cheater,” Bucky interjected, not taking his eyes off the match.

“Is not!” Jane retorted in defense of her boyfriend. “Isn’t that right, Bruce?”

“Uh, yeah. That’s right,” Bruce said.

“Bruce is the impartial judge,” Jane explained. “Anyway, they’re each going best two out of three, but the loser of each round has to down a pint of mead.” Tony thought that was pointless, considering that Steve and Thor couldn’t get drunk on Midgardian liquor. Just as he was about to say so, Jane corrected herself, “ _Asgardian_ mead.” Ah. That sounded more like it.

Just as she finished explaining, Steve’s arm hit the table with a loud _thump_. Thor let out a triumphant cry while Bucky made a noise of disappointment, resting his hand on Steve’s shoulder in consolation. Tony did the same, adding, “Next time, Steve.” Noticing Tony, Barnes withdrew his hand, shifting back to his place on the sidelines.

“Thanks guys,” Steve told both of them. He took up the glass of mead on his side of the table and said with a rueful look, “Looks like you got me this time, Thor.”

Thor smirked. “And I will see you defeated in the next round, Steven! But now it is time for you and your brother-in-arms to match each other in this contest!”

Steve chugged his mead in one go, wiping at the corners of his mouth before turning his attention to Bucky, who had changed places with Thor. “Left-handed or right-handed, Bucky?”

“I ain’t stupid enough to say right-handed, Steve,” Barnes snorted. His right side was just his regular arm; the left was the bionic one. “I _still_ remember what you did to Dum-Dum and Gabe the last time you arm wrestled with the guys.”

“Not stupid enough? You sure about that, Bucky?” Steve asked, grinning. “‘Cause I think there’s a milkmaid from a farm in Alsace who’d say differently.”

“Shut it, you punk!” Barnes said with a grin, leaning over the table to give him a hard but playful shove.

Steve returned the gesture, laughing. “Then quit stallin’, jerk. Let’s get to the match!”

Barnes put up his left on the table, elbow down. Steve did the same, taking hold of the metal arm.

“On the count of three,” Bruce said from the sidelines. “One, two, three!”

They were off, both trying to take the other down. Tony cheered Steve on while Jane elected to cheer for Barnes, with Thor and Bruce egging both of them on in turn. Soon, it was Barnes’ metal arm that hit the table first. Tony cheered some more while Jane groaned and Steve ribbed Barnes, making him chug the mead in one go.

It was Thor who turned to Tony and suggested, “Join us in our contest, Tony!”

Having built it himself, Tony knew the kind of power Barnes’ bionic arm was capable of and he certainly had enough experience sparring with Steve and Thor to know their strength as well. He wasn’t too proud to admit that outside of the suit, he would have a hard time taking any of them in a contest of pure strength. “Only if I get to put on the suit,” he told Thor.

“You could go against Bucky. Right-handed,” Jane suggested.

Hearing her idea, Barnes regarded Tony with a look that said he’d rather do anything else but that. “You know, I think I need another drink,” he said abruptly, standing up.

“Good idea, I’ll come with you,” Tony returned, getting up with him. He wanted to know why Barnes kept looking at Tony like he was a particularly unpleasant insect that needed squashing. When they made it to the kitchen and out of earshot of the others, Tony looked him in the eyes, a challenge, and said, “What is it? Afraid of another ass-kicking, Barnes?”

“Not afraid of anything,” Barnes said evenly, his words negated by the fact that he was carefully not looking at Tony. “Just not interested in dealing with you, thanks.”

Before Tony could spit out a retort, Steve walked in with his empty glass, reaching for the bottle of liquor. “Everything all right in here?” he asked a little too casually.

“Everything’s great, Steve,” Barnes flashed him a smile.

“It’s great. Super. Terrific,” Tony added, agreeing with the lie. “No, really, we’re—”

“My apologies for the interruption, sir,” JARVIS interrupted with what Tony thought was impeccable timing. If JARVIS was corporeal, Tony would have kissed him. “Miss Potts reports that she has attempted to contact you multiple times within the last half-hour to no avail. She deemed the matter urgent, and directed me to ask that you return her calls immediately.”

“Will do. Thanks, JARVIS,” Tony replied. Facing Steve and Barnes he said, “Well, it looks like business calls. This was fun. We’ll have to do it some other time.” Yeah right. Only if Barnes’ attitude improved would Tony go near him.

He made his way past both of them and waited for the elevator to arrive. At a distance, he watched Barnes roughhouse with Steve playfully before putting an arm around Steve’s shoulder. The doors opened and Tony entered the elevator car, but not before he saw Steve flash Barnes a grin as bright as the sun.

As soon as the doors closed, he exhaled heavily. “Thanks, JARVIS,” he said again. “Good timing back there.”

“Indeed, sir,” JARVIS acknowledged the compliment. “Miss Potts does not require your immediate presence in her office, but she would like to go over the latest potential contract offers when you have a spare moment.”

Well, there was no time like the present, and he certainly wasn’t going back to the rec room now. Tony sighed. “Okay, tell Pepper I’m coming.”

 

In the days to come, Steve showed no signs of spending any time away from Barnes, so at first Tony tried to join in where he could. He watched as Steve and Bucky grew more and more attached to each other. They were constantly touching each other—a hand on a shoulder here, a playful shove there.  Every other minute, it seemed like they were finishing each other’s sentences or sharing jokes that only they got.

And what was worse, the more time Tony spent around Barnes, the more Tony came away with the distinct impression that Barnes didn’t want to be anywhere near him. He tried to play nice with Steve’s best friend, but every time he spoke to the guy, he received short, terse answers in response, designed to cut the conversation off as quickly as possible before Barnes could make up an excuse to momentarily leave the room.

Tony couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out what it could be—he had not spoken to Barnes at length since the former assassin’s time in the Hulk containment chamber—but the result was that he stopped trying to hang out with Steve and instead buried himself in other work.

He wanted to ask Steve what was going on, but it never seemed to be the right time to ask. Things were just too busy right now. Barnes had only been released from confinement for a couple of weeks now, and Steve was so obviously busy with handling things at SHIELD and with bringing Bucky up to speed on the 21st century. Things would go back to normal soon, and if they didn’t, Tony would wait up all night to catch Steve alone, if he had to.

But he didn’t have to bother. Things came to a head even sooner than that.

Tony had just gotten out of the lab one afternoon and was heading for the kitchen when he ran into—who else—Steve and Bucky.

“Tony, there you are!” Steve exclaimed. He looked happy and he was sporting a Mets baseball cap. “I’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you. I wanted to ask you this yesterday but I didn’t see you at all; Bucky and I are goin’ out to the Mets game today. You wanna come?”

For all Tony’s cajoling and insistence that the Yankees were the better team, Steve refused to support them, informing Tony firmly that, “I didn’t support the Yankees back then and I’m not about to start now.” In the end, Tony had bought Steve season tickets, in the VIP box, to the Mets’ games for his birthday, and even though Tony didn’t really care for baseball to begin with, he usually ended up going with Steve anyway. Sometimes when it was Tony’s turn to plan date night, he deliberately suggested a baseball game, knowing it was something Steve enjoyed. He was stunned that Steve would ask Barnes to come along.

“The Mets game?” Tony repeated stupidly.

“Yeah. It’s gonna start in a little bit. Bucky and I were gonna leave now to get there on time. You wanna come?” he repeated.

Tony didn’t _really_ like baseball to begin with, and given that the evening was probably going to be another exercise in feeling uncomfortable while Barnes thoroughly ignored him, he wasn’t too thrilled about the prospect. He was a little hurt, too, that Steve had to invite him along in the first place. Why couldn’t Tony have a moment alone with Steve?

“Sorry. Can’t. I’ve ah, got this thing I’m working on for SHIELD,” he lied. “Fury’s been hounding my ass about it the whole week. There’s only so much JARVIS can do to block his calls, you know? I really should finish it today.”

“Oh,” Steve said, trying not to look too crestfallen. “Okay. Well, I’ll see you later tonight, then?”

“Sure. Have fun at the game.” He waved them off and watched Steve leave, Barnes still at his side.

 

After they left, Tony wandered around the main floor morosely, upset and hurt that Steve had invited Barnes to go to the baseball game with him. Granted, Tony didn’t even like baseball, but he _always_ went with Steve. It was their thing, that’s what they did for date night sometimes. Tony didn’t think Steve ever invited anyone else to come along. Except Bucky Barnes, apparently.

Just as Tony decided to pour himself a drink at the wet bar, in the hopes of becoming less melancholy about it, he heard the sound of voices coming from the open elevator doors.

“All I’m saying is that we should double the base and moderate the frequency by cutting it in half,” Howard said to Bruce, who stepped out with him.

“Why can’t we double the frequency, again?” Bruce asked, trying to get a grasp on Howard’s theory.

“Because it will multiply the effect exponentially and we should go at this gradually. Safety before efficacy, my friend,” Howard clapped a hand on his shoulder before noticing Tony was in the room. “Tony! What are you doing here? Steve said you were going to a baseball game.”

So Steve had told Howard beforehand? Tony hid his surprise, shrugging casually. “I decided not to go. Drink?” he offered, mixing himself a martini.

“Sure, I’ll have one of those,” his dad returned, indicating the martini. “Bruce?”

Bruce shook his head, “I’ve ah, got an... appointment with Betty in ten minutes.”

“By video call?” Howard asked, eyebrows raising a little.

Tony had to admit, he was intrigued as well. He thought about chiding Bruce or ribbing him, but Tony didn’t want to smother out any flames that Bruce and Betty might be rekindling, in case it was too soon. There would be plenty of time to poke fun at Bruce later.

“I should get back to my place,” Bruce explained, “I don’t want to be late.”

“Never keep a lady waiting,” Howard intoned sagely, nodding his head in agreement. “We’ll talk shop later.”

“Later, Big Guy,” Tony waved him off. “I want details in the morning!” Okay, so maybe he couldn’t resist teasing Bruce just a little bit. Bruce ducked his head and waved, heading back to the elevator.

The doors closed and Howard settled into the couch, Tony handing him one of two martinis that he took with a murmured, “Thanks.”

Tony took up a nearby chair and said, “I didn’t know you and Bruce were in the lab this late.”

His dad shrugged, “Just working on a few things. Nothing big.” He took a sip of his martini and commented, “This is good. But then again, I suppose you’d know how I like it, wouldn’t you?”

The comment was a little odd to Tony since, no, he didn’t know how his dad took his liquor. “You and I never drank together,” he explained, “I guess I just take after you.”

Howard lowered his gaze to his drink. “Hopefully not in everything,” he murmured.

Tony didn’t know what to make of that, or what the comment could be referring to, so he let it go. He did remember that his dad drank very frequently when he was growing up, although Howard had never once been an angry or a violent drunk, just sad and nostalgic instead. Usually he brought out the Captain America memorabilia and fired up the old propaganda film reels. If Tony were lucky, his dad would let Tony into the study while he drank and that’s when Tony would hear stories about Captain America.

As for his own drinking habits, after his parent’s death and after the company was left to him and he had the freedom to do anything he wanted, Tony had almost gone off the rails with alcohol and drugs and sex. But Obadiah pulled him back from the edge, making Tony choose sex as his vice, cutting off the drugs entirely, and limiting (or at least trying to limit) his alcohol intake. He guided Tony and taught him how to make responsible business decisions for the company. That was, of course, a big part of why his betrayal had hurt Tony so much.

He shook his head. “Obadiah kept me out of trouble after—after you were gone,” he explained. Howard looked relieved.

“Died of a heart attack, you said?”

Tony didn’t know _exactly_ what Obadiah had died of, unsure if the heart or the brain had been the first to go after being subjected to that much electricity, but sure, it was possible. “Yeah. About five years ago.” Tony kept it short. He didn’t really want to talk about Obadiah. Using time travel as his out, “You know I can’t tell you that much about the future. Tell me more about SHIELD. What was it like, working there? Did you do a lot of undercover work?”

“Some. It was easier right after the war, I wasn’t so well known yet as the successor to the Stark Industries legacy. But as the company become more successful, my face had a habit of showing up in the papers frequently and it was harder to go undercover. Sometimes we used it to our advantage, like on that one mission with your Aunt Peggy, but mostly my job was to coordinate missions and work on tech for SHIELD as the Deputy Director.”

Right. Fury and Hill had bother referred to his dad as Deputy Director. If Howard had been second in command, then, “Who was the Executive Director?”

“Colonel Phillips was the first. He helped set up SHIELD, got us up and running, and then he retired about a year into the gig. I took over from him and spent most of my time rubbing elbows with big wigs so we could secure funding. Like I said, I started to get pretty busy with Stark Industries so I switched roles with Peggy, stepping down to Deputy Director while she stepped up to run SHIELD as its Executive Director. Later, when she was looking to train a replacement, I stepped down another notch to Special Director, which meant that I played around in the lab, while Nick was promoted to Deputy Director.”

Tony never knew his dad was so close to the top of the command structure at SHIELD, or that he and Aunt Peggy had run missions together in the beginning. He had always figured his dad’s involvement stopped at funding SHIELD. Howard had done more work for the organization than he had realized.

“Sounds like you and Aunt Peggy were pretty close. I know you ended up marrying Mom but did you and Aunt Peggy ever...?”

His dad laughed. “Goodness, no. I’m pretty sure Peggy would have shot me within a day! I may have flirted with her once, but she’s just a good friend. And an incredible woman. Smart, fearless, and knows how to handle herself. As a matter of fact, s _he_ was the one who introduced me to your mother.”

Tony was surprised to hear that. “Yeah?” Now he wanted the full story.

“Before I met your mother I had many... _admirers_ , you could say. Your mother, she was an admirer, but not of me, just my research. She mentioned it to Peggy once—it was never clear to me _how_ , exactly, they got to being friends—but Peggy arranged for her to meet me. From the moment your mother said, ‘radioactive decay of mesons,’ I was smitten.”

Taking a moment to process that, Tony said, surprised, “Mom was a particle physicist before she met you?” He knew his mom was smart but she never had a professional career when he was growing up. She ran charity events and planned parties; she didn’t write papers on particle physics, as far as he knew.

Howard shook his head, “No, she was a classics major in college, but she liked science. I think she could have been a scientist if her father had encouraged it, but she was from a very traditional family and he forbade her from studying anything in ‘a man’s field of work’—that is, anything math, science, technology, or engineering—at college. Before she met me and it turned out not to matter, she stood to gain a lot of money from her inheritance, otherwise I think she would have gone for the science degree. You get your genius from both sides of the family, you know.” He shot Tony a grin.

Tony hid his matching grin into his drink as he took another sip. They went on like that for some time, trading stories, with Tony sharing as much information as he could and Howard sharing tales about the Commandos during the war and after, running SHIELD. It was a lot like being in the lab together, only this time they weren’t forced to be in the same space. By coming up here to have a drink with Tony, Howard had deliberately chosen to spend time with him and Tony liked that. It was certainly different than when he had been growing up and it was nice.

Later in the conversation, they began discussing engineering calculations and Tony explained some of the propulsion technology that ran the Iron Man armor. “I based it on the gravitic reversion technology you came up with,” he explained.

Howard beamed. “I never imagined you might be able to fly like a bird. I wonder how incredible that must feel when you’re up there!”

Tony put down his empty glass, getting up from his seat. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

“What do you mean?” Howard rose to his feet, following his son.

“You want to know what flying in the Iron Man suit feels like. Well, we’re going for a ride.”

Howard followed Tony down to his workshop where the Iron Man suits were housed. Tony might have been a little tipsy but he had enough experience to still be able to pilot the suit with one eye closed. It wasn’t as though he was flying alone, either. JARVIS was a constant co-pilot in his suit, regardless of whether Tony was sober, hungover, sleep deprived, or otherwise impaired. And if he were truly too intoxicated, JARVIS’ failsafe would prevent Tony from powering up at all.

“The suit is only coded to me,” Tony explained, “So you’ll have to hold on. Here, put this on.” He handed his father a spare flight suit and went into the other room to put his own on. When he came out, Howard was suited up, ready to go. With a flick of his wrist, the Iron Man armor snapped into place. They rode the elevator back up to the main floor and walked out onto the balcony, the perfect landing and take-off spot for the armor.

“Grab onto the suit here,” Tony instructed his dad, pointing to two spots on the armor. This particular suit had handlebars for Steve to hold onto, and hooks for the harness they used when Steve wanted to fly with Tony for fun. This time around, it was his dad he hooked into the harness, making sure everything was securely set in place.

“Ready for the flight of your life, old man?” Tony said beneath the mask.

“You betcha, kiddo,” Howard returned with a grin. Before he could even finish the last word, Tony had fired the up the armor and rocketed them into the sky.

Howard let out a shout of surprised terror that gradually turned into a whoop of laughter, thrilled that he was _actually flying_. The wind rushed past him, whipping in his face while Tony spiraled quickly in the sky, hovering to admire the view. And then they were off, racing down Madison Avenue to the tip of Manhattan, where Tony made a sweeping turn to the right. He dove low, the water of the Hudson skimming the suit for a second, and he slowed as they swept up the river so that they could both admire the skyline.

Tony didn’t go further than the five boroughs this time, content to fly over the city and show off his favorite night time sights—the Brooklyn Bridge, the Wonder Wheel at Coney Island, and the whole of New York from atop the Statue of Liberty.

Even so, Howard was breathless with exhilaration by the time they returned to the tower, laughing and grinning with excitement. He alternated between expressing his wonder at the sights of New York and marveling at the capabilities Tony had designed into the suit. His praise over the Iron Man suit made Tony feel even better than flying did.

Howard said goodnight to him after that, with the explanation that all the flying had left him tired. Tony himself was feeling peckish and after banishing the suit armor back to his workshop, he headed down to the kitchen, hoping there was still some of Steve’s chicken parmesan left over from the last team bonding night.

But when he reached the main floor, he stopped dead in his tracks. While Tony and his dad were flying over the city, it seemed that Steve and Bucky had returned from the baseball game to watch a movie together. The credits to _The Wizard of Oz_ were rolling on screen but the room’s occupants weren’t watching. Bucky and Steve were fast asleep on the couch, spooning against each other. Steve was the little spoon, which struck Tony as odd, but it didn’t matter. The effect was the same. His heart dropped into his stomach and settled like a lead weight, making Tony feel sick. For all of his stunning intellect, how Tony could be so _stupid_?

Tony quickly turned around and headed for the elevator as fast as he could. Forget the chicken parmesan, he would eat whatever was in his apartment or go hungry. Feeling numb, he barely remembered heating up leftovers and wolfing them down. He shucked off his clothes and crawled under the covers, but sleep wouldn’t come.

All he could think about was the scene down stairs, of Steve curling up against someone who wasn’t Tony, replaying the image in his mind over and over again. For weeks and weeks now, Tony had tried to push away any warning signs that Steve and Bucky were anything more than just friends. There were so many signs that could have been interpreted in a number of ways—the occasional roughhousing, the shared jokes between them, and the fact that they could easily finish each other’s sentences—but canoodling with each other? That looked pretty clear-cut to him.

He was in shock, for sure, but what scared Tony was that he wasn’t angry. He _should_ have been angry to see Steve, his Steve, pressed in close to someone else, but he wasn’t. He just felt... hurt. It hurt, somewhere in his chest and behind his ribcage, to see both of them curled up like that. Because the truth was, they looked good together. They looked comfortable, relaxed. Like they belonged together and always had.

It made sense now, as Tony thought back to earlier in the day when Steve had invited him to the baseball game. Steve and Tony always went to the games together for date night, but maybe Steve had invited Tony to come along with him and Bucky as a way of hinting that he wanted to break it off, call it quits, and start seeing Barnes, the man he’d had a flame for, long before Tony had come into Steve’s life.

God, Tony felt like such a moron. All those weeks ago, after repairing the Iron Man suit with Howard and Steve in the lab, he had asked Steve if he wanted to go back and find Peggy, bring her into the future and marry her.  Back then, Tony had to ask. He had to know if Steve, given the chance, would have picked Peggy over him. All that time, Tony thought Steve was pining over losing Peggy when it was really _Barnes_ he missed and loved so much. And damn it, Steve being Steve, no wonder he still crawled into bed next to Tony, night after night. After all, he’d _promised_ Tony he would, and Steve was nothing if not a man of his word.

It should have cheered Tony to know that Steve wouldn’t leave him, but it only made him feel worse to know that Steve stayed out of obligation, not love. And maybe Steve didn’t love Tony any more, but Tony still loved Steve and he’d be damned if someone as selfless and loyal and caring as Steve wasted his time on someone as self-centered as Tony. No, he was going to have to be the one to break it off, to give Steve what he needed, what he’d been hinting at with the baseball game. Yes, tomorrow he’d talk to Steve, tell him it wasn’t working. There was no need to bring Barnes into it. Tony would break it off gently, and Steve could finally be happy with his best friend.

Tony tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep as he thought it over. Eventually he heard Steve tip-toe his way in, feeling his way around slowly in the dark so as not to wake Tony. Taking pity on him, Tony quietly said, “JARVIS, lights twenty percent,” and sat up in bed.

“Tony! I didn’t know you were still awake.” Steve turned toward him, surprised. If Steve looked embarrassed, Tony pretended not to notice.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He watched as Steve slowly peeled off his clothes one at a time and then carefully placed them in the hamper, picking up Tony’s discarded clothes off the floor as he went and depositing them, too.

“Maybe I can help you relax?” Steve offered, climbing into bed next to Tony.

For a split second, Tony hesitated, and then murmured his agreement. “Why, of course.”

He shouldn’t be doing this, not after what he knew now. But he was a selfish man and if tomorrow was really the end, he wanted to spend tonight memorizing every inch of Steve for the last time.


	13. Chapter 13

The spot next to Tony was empty in morning, although that wasn’t so unusual. Steve was probably in the gym for his morning workout and Tony guessed that he would spend the rest of his day with Barnes.

Tony himself was scheduled to work in the time machine lab with Howard for the day, then wine and dine a potential contract for dinner.  He probably wouldn’t see Steve until nighttime. Tony went through his morning routine with that numb feeling again, dreading what was to come by the day’s end.

He felt too queasy for breakfast and, deciding that he had some time on his hands, he silently went through the closets and drawers, packing Steve’s things into a single box. Steve kept most of his personal effects on his own floor, so the only things Tony really had to pack were clothes, toiletries, a laptop, phone, and an mp3 player, some books, a few sets of colored pencils and charcoals, and a sketchbook. He hesitated as he packed the last item away; he was heartbroken already and he hadn’t even told Steve yet.

Tony should have seen this coming. He was just... a stopgap. A detour in the road for Cap on his way to someone else, someone _better_ , someone meant for him all along. Tony was never the right person for Steve. They had clashed from day one; Tony was all flash and style, quick and impulsive whereas Steve was a solid presence with quiet reserve, measured and thoughtful. Tony had to face it: they never quite fit together, not the way that Steve fit so seamlessly with Barnes.

He was just about to head up to the lab when Steve appeared, almost walking straight into Tony. “Sorry, I just wanted to get my phone before I head to the Triskelion.” Steve stopped in his tracks when he saw the box filled with his things lying on the bed. “What is this? Tony?”

Tony stared like a deer in the headlights. He wasn’t prepared for this conversation. Maybe later tonight, but certainly not now. He didn’t know what to say. “What does it look like?” he tried.

“All of my things are in a box, Tony,” Steve accused. He sounded incredulous. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“Bingo! Give the man a gold star,” Tony tried for sarcastic but fell a few notes flat.

“Tony....” Steve worked his jaw but no sound came out. “I know things have been a little rough between us these past few weeks, but we can work it out, we can.”

Tony laughed, a hollow sound that sounded distant to his own ears. How could they resolve anything when Tony was the problem to begin with? “I don’t think something like this can be ‘worked out.’ Not this time, Cap.”

“What do you mean? Please, Tony, talk to me.”

 “There’s nothing to talk about,” Tony insisted, because he certainly didn’t want to think about Barnes. “Cap. We both knew this was never going to work out. I’m doing you a favor. Really, you should be thanking me. You’ll be much happier this way.”

“ _Thanking_ you? What are you talking about? How could I possibly be happy without you?” Steve cried. “What’s gotten into you, Tony?”

“Nothing’s ‘gotten into me!’ Why won’t you let me break up with you?” Tony shouted, at his wits end. Christ, whoever said Captain America was determined didn’t know the half of it. Stubborn was more like it.

As Steve opened his mouth to reply, his cell phone rang loudly. If looks could kill, the incendiary look Steve gave his phone would have had it spontaneously combusting by now. He answered it anyway.

“What is it, Director?” he barked in a clipped tone. “Yes, sir. I’m on my way. Be there in fifteen.” Looking up at Tony, Steve said, “Fury wants me at the Triskelion. I’m already late. We’re not done here, Tony. We’re not breaking up and we’re going to talk about this when I get back.  I have to leave now.”

“Go,” Tony dismissed him with a wave of his hand. Steve hesitated, uncertain, and then left. “Leave. Leave like everyone else,” Tony muttered to himself.

Why did he ever think he could make it last with Steve? Or anyone else, for that matter? Tony Stark had never been known for his stable relationships. First Pepper and now Steve, and he couldn’t be the right man for either of them.  Was he really surprised by that?

He shouldn’t have been. Hell, he hadn’t exactly had any stable relationships growing up for him to model after. His mother loved him and she tried, but she was young, inexperienced, and there was only so much she could do on her own. And his dad... well, his dad had certainly never been around. Tony remembered the first time they’d ever spent one-on-one time together building a series of circuit boards, and that was when he was _eight_. And the next year, Howard had been all too happy to ship Tony off, first to boarding school, then to MIT. Sure, they were spending time together now, but it was too little too late to change Tony’s personality and the way he related—or didn’t relate, actually—to those he loved. Face it: Tony Stark was many things, but good with relationships wasn’t one of them.

Tony looked at the clock projection on the wall and sighed. He’d better get to the lab before Jane and Bruce sent out a search party.

 

“There you are!” Howard exclaimed as he arrived. “I was starting to worry.”

Tony looked around and asked, “Where are Bruce and Jane?”

Howard gestured behind him to the door that divided the floor space into two labs. “They’re testing quantities of vibranium to stabilize the quantum tunnel effect.” Tony watched them through the glass window. Jane hovered next to the spectrometer calling out numbers while Bruce wrote them down. “I thought you and I could work on recalibrating the vacuum chamber in here, to accommodate the power of the vibranium.”

“Sure,” Tony gave in easily, heading over to the corner of the lab which housed the parts of the time machine that had been built so far. They were almost finished and it was getting big. The “doorway,” they were calling it, that Howard would step through, was a little bit taller than he was and it looked a hell of a lot like a Stargate. The spherical shape made more sense than any other geometry when they were talking about the orbital motion of antimatter particles, and it was easier to use that shape for calculations.

It didn’t take a genius of Howard’s level to know that Tony was agitated by something as he worked through equations on the console, legs jittering with tension and hands jerky as he wrote with the stylus. Howard focused on opening up the housing to the vacuum chamber to work on it. He decided to leave his son alone for now. Everyone had their off days.

They worked in silence for the better part of the morning, caught up in the equations and the mechanics, respectively, until Jane and Bruce came back in.

Bruce was laughing at something funny Jane had said as he closed the door behind them. “Hey,” Jane greeted Tony and Howard. “Bruce and I are heading out to lunch. I thought we could try the sub shop on the next block up. You two wanna come?”

“Sure,” Howard said. “I just need a few more minutes to finish up here. I’ll meet you at the shop. It’s at 45th and Broadway, right?”

“That’s the one,” said Jane.

“Tony?” Bruce asked.

Tony waved them off, intently staring at the equation on his screen. Pixels were easier to deal with than people. “You go ahead, I want to check something.”

“Suit yourself,” Jane shrugged. “Howard, we’ll see you there!”

“Okay,” Howard mumbled, too busy fixing the wiring of a coil to notice them leaving.

Howard and Tony resumed worked in silence for a few minutes before Howard finally took off his safety goggles and stood up, ready to leave. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

“No, I’m fine,” he said in cool, clipped tones, entering a formula with the keyboard.

“What’s wrong, Tony? Something’s been eating at you all morning.”

Tony let his hands fall to his sides as he turned around and snarled out a sigh. “It’s nothing!” he protested forcefully. “Leave. Go to lunch. I’ll be here when you come back.”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong,” Howard crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Like that’s ever stopped you before,” Tony accused. When Howard furrowed his brows in confusion Tony laid into him, “You never gave a damn if something was wrong when I was growing up. Hell, I’m pretty sure you didn’t notice me to begin with! You were never around, or if you were, you looked the other way. And you shipped me off to boarding school so you wouldn’t have to deal with me! What was so wrong with me that—that I wasn’t worth your time? Why wasn’t I ever good enough for you?” he choked out the last part.

Howard’s jaw dropped and he sucked in a breath, simultaneously pulling up a stool next to his son so that he could put a hand on Tony’s back, trying to soothe him. “Jesus, Tony... There’s nothing wrong with you. There was _never_ anything wrong with you.” He pulled away so that he could look his son in the eyes. “The fault was _mine_ Tony.”

Howard sighed again, a pensive expression on his face as he thought long and hard about how he wanted to answer. The room went quiet before he finally settled into an explanation. “I never meant to have to tell you this, but your grandfather... he didn’t just belittle your uncle or I. He... he beat us, Tony. Every chance he got, every little infraction. From the time we were little to the time Eddie left for Europe and I went off to MIT. He said that it would make us tougher, stronger, more resilient. I—” Howard broke off, a far-away look in his eye as he relived a memory from long ago. “I never thought I would have children, because I was afraid I would end up like my father if I did.”

“I was an accident,” Tony said plainly, looking up and shaking his head. It was no surprise to him. As soon as he was old enough to learn about the birds and the bees, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he hadn’t been wanted in the first place.

“Goodness, no. More planning went into your conception than the Stark Expo, Tony. Believe me, you were _very_ much not an accident.” He paused. “When you were born, I promised myself that I’d never raise a hand to you, that I’d never be like my own father. But I didn’t trust myself. I was afraid if I was left alone with you, I’d hurt you before I could stop. It seemed like the best thing was to stay away so that I couldn’t do you any harm.” Of course, the irony being that his neglect had done plenty of harm to Tony, just in a different way. “It was easy to convince myself that the company needed me, that my work with Vanko was more pressing than coming home at a reasonable hour to read you a bedtime story, that SHIELD and the world needed more attention than my own family.”

“You didn’t just ignore me, you _sent me away_ , Dad,” Tony reminded him firmly. “The day you sent me off to boarding school, you acted like it was the happiest day of your life.”

“Tony, _no_. Is that what you really think?” Howard looked shocked. “If I seemed happy, it was to hide how nervous I was that you were leaving. Your mother could tell you, I was a _wreck_ the day you left, sending you off by yourself with only the nanny. Do you ever wonder why Jarvis visited so often? I wanted reports that you were doing okay, that the teachers or the nanny weren’t hurting you. You needed a school that could give you a better education than you could get here. _That’s_ why we sent you to boarding school. I wanted you to go because I knew you were meant for better things, greater things.”

“I was _miserable_ at boarding school!” Tony hollered before he could take it back, frustrated at everything. He rarely thought about it now; it was so long ago and it didn’t matter anymore, but it was an awful four years of his life spent hiding in the science labs during lunch, away from the other students he didn’t identify with. “I hated it there and you never once came to visit. Not there, and not at MIT. I was _alone_.” He sighed in frustration, rubbing at his face. “I thought if I was perfect, if I was just like Captain America, you’d finally spend time with me. I tried so hard to be _good enough_ for you to pay attention, but you never did.”

“But you _are_ good enough,” Howard said in a rush of impulsivity, before Tony’s accusations really caught up to him. “I...” he stuttered, the naked truth of his mistakes finally sinking in. He licked his lips, thinking of what he wanted to say. “Steve said... Steve said that I expected too much for having given you so little of my own time and attention. That it was wrong to compare you to him because you and he are different people, different personalities. I _know_ that now. I’m sorry I hurt you, that I didn’t spend enough time with you. I’m sorry I made you think I didn’t care, because I did and I do. And I’m sorry I didn’t show you that. When we build this machine, when I get back, I’m going to do better for you. Because you were _always_ good enough.”

That was all it took for Tony to reach out to his dad, the first time he had ever done so. His dad cradled Tony in his chest once more and they stayed like that for a long while. Tony didn’t cry, but it was a near thing, and when he pulled back, Howard frowned at the despondent look still adorning his son’s face. He thought Tony would feel better by now, but the line of tension in his body told another story. No, there was something else bothering him.

“This... this isn’t really about me,” Howard guessed. He furrowed his brows, trying to work it out. “Something else eating at you, isn’t it?”

With no heart or energy to deflect, Tony nodded sadly. “It’s Steve. He and I broke up. Or, at least, I tried to this morning. He’s not having any of it. But I don’t think we’ll be together much longer.”

“Why? What happened?”

“He doesn’t need me anymore. He has who he wants, who he’s always wanted. I didn’t see the point in having him stay and making both of us go through a miserable lie.”

“Wait, are you...” Howard shook his head to clear it. “ _Barnes?_ Bucky Barnes? Is that what this is about?”

Tony gave a snort and rolled his eyes. Like it wasn’t obvious.

“So you broke up with Steve because you thought.... Oh, _Tony_. Steve and Bucky are _friends_.”

 “Hey, _you_ were the one who said they were inseparable during the war.”

“Because they _were_ inseparable. Tony, Steve _loves_ you. I spend a lot of time with Steve and Bucky; there’s nothing going on between them. They’re brothers in all but name.”

“Yeah? For ‘brothers,’ they looked pretty cozy on the couch last night. And Steve went to the baseball game with him. The only other person he goes to those games with is _me_. On _date night_.”

Howard frowned. “I don’t know what’s going on with that,” he admitted, “But my guess is that there’s more to it than what you saw. I know for a fact Steve is still madly in love with you. You owe it to each other to talk it out, before you do anything rash like _break up_ with him.”

Tony sighed. “Okay, Dad,” he relented and he meant it. In truth, he had planned to talk to Steve before breaking it off. Steve just took him by surprise that morning. “Pepper and I have dinner with a contractor tonight, but I’ll talk to him after that.”

“There you go,” Howard smiled and clapped him on the arm. “It’ll work out just fine, you’ll see.”

Tony wasn’t sure he really believed that (nor was he sure he really believed Steve and Bucky weren’t involved), but he felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest just from sharing his worries with his dad.

The lab doors opened and Jane and Bruce came back in. “I should have known you’d still be working in here!” Jane smiled, oblivious to the turmoil that had taken place minutes before.

“You were taking too long, so we brought back sandwiches,” Bruce explained, holding up a large paper bag. “I got you a meatball sub,” he said, handing over one wrapped up sub sandwich to Tony.

“You know me too well,” Tony grinned, accepting the package.

“And I got you pastrami and rye,” Jane smiled, handing the other sandwich over to Howard, who gave her his thanks.

Jane and Bruce went back to their side of the lab while Tony and Howard ate lunch quietly. In the afternoon, Tony was more relaxed than before, and they worked together on the vacuum chamber, a warm atmosphere coloring their conversation.

 

Tony and Pepper knocked the business dinner out of the park (to be expected, of course), and by the time they were done, Stark Industries had a new contract with the DoE to start a pilot project building arc reactor power plants across the country.  The meeting was a success, but Tony was exhausted by the time he stepped out of the elevator and onto his private floor, tugging off his tie even as he opened the bedroom door.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Steve reading quietly on their bed. Steve looked up and closed his book as soon as he saw Tony. “You’re back.”

“Uh, yeah,” Tony said as he unfroze, going over to sit on the bed and take off his shoes. He didn’t really know what to say, or how to begin.

“Howard talked to me earlier,” Steve explained. “And I want you to know there’s _nothing_ going on between me and Bucky. I would ask, ‘how could you think that?’ but I think I know. I haven’t been here for you these past weeks, even when I said I would. It’s my fault. I was stupid, I took you for granted, and I want to make it up to you. Will you please give me another chance?”

Tony let out a short laugh. “Steve... I know you’re trying to do the ‘right thing,’ or whatever you think that is, but this isn’t going to work. You said there’s nothing going on between you and Bucky, but we both know that’s not true. You and I _always_ go to a baseball game together for date night. Why did you invite Bucky, too?”

“Because you two have been avoiding each other—”

“—No, _he’s_ the one avoiding me,” Tony interrupted. “I’ve been trying not to get in his way because of it!”

“I know,” Steve said calmly, trying to get Tony to calm down too. He did so, taking deep, measured breaths, while Steve went on. “I know he’s been avoiding you. I told Bucky to knock it off, and I was hoping having both of you at the game would be a start. I didn’t think you would say ‘no,’ because going to a game _is_ the sort of thing we always do together! It didn’t exactly make me feel good when you refused, if that’s what you were worried about.”

Oh. Well, that cleared one thing up, but there was still the matter of what happened afterwards. “Then how come you two were sprawled all over each other last night? I saw you _spooning_ with him, fast asleep before you came to bed! Which, really Cap, little spoon?”

Steve blushed a little but got back on point. “Tony, that’s _nothing._ I mean, it’s not nothing,” he raked a hand through his hair, backpedaling quickly, “obviously it was enough to upset you this badly and I swear I won’t do it again if it bothers you, but to Bucky and me, it _is_ nothing. When we left the orphanage and got a hole in the wall apartment, it was the middle of the Depression and we didn’t have enough money for heat. The apartment was freezing in the winter, and I barely weighed 90 pounds soaking wet. There was only one bed and Bucky got tired of hearing my teeth chatter on the sofa, so we’d share the heat between us. It actually—I’m pretty sure it kept me from catching the flu more than once. It’s just habit. I didn’t even know we’d drifted off last night until I woke up like that.”

Tony searched Steve’s face for a lie, but he saw none. Steve was telling the truth, and he looked genuinely guilty about it. Still, it wasn’t the only issue Tony had.  

“That’s the thing about it. You two looked so... _natural_ together. Like you belonged that way. You’ve known him for so long, you’re like two peas in a pod. I don’t—you and I, we’re not like that, Steve. Hell, we got off on the wrong foot from day one. I don’t see where I fit into this. I don’t know if I ever did. And I know you promised me, promised me that you’d stay but I won’t hold you to that. That’s not fair and l—I—” Tony broke off, his throat choking up before he could get the words out.

Steve’s face fell even further, a feat Tony thought not possible until that moment. He rushed to Tony’s side, grasping his hands and bringing them up between the two of them. “Tony, no. I’m not leaving you. Not unless you tell me to. I don’t _want_ to leave you,” he said emphatically. “I know we haven’t been at this for very long so maybe you can’t see it, but we _do_ fit together. I love that I can spend hours in your workshop, sketching while I watch you work and just being near you. I love that we can banter at home and still work together seamlessly in the field. For all that we tease and argue with each other, you push me and challenge me to be better and I love that about you. Ask anyone on the team—Nat, Bruce, Clint, even Thor. They’ll tell you. I see it, too. There’s no one else I want to be with but you. Not Peggy, not Bucky, just _you_.” Steve felt silent, perhaps waiting for Tony’s reply. Tony didn’t know what to think, his mind still processing the information.

Thinking of something else, Steve added, “And knowing Bucky for so long is the reason _why_ I can’t see him that way. Besides the fact that he’s definitely a ladies’ man, when you grow up with someone like a brother you _can’t_ see them as anything else. It’s like...” Steve struggled for an analogy. “It’s like you and Rhodey. You wouldn’t think about dating him, right?”

“No,” Tony made a face. “He’s been my best friend since I was sixteen! His wife would kill me and besides, it would ruin the entire bromance we’ve got going on!” Realization hit him like a ton of bricks, and suddenly he knew exactly what Steve was trying to say. “Okay. I know what you mean. But I’ve still never _spooned_ with Rhodey!”

“Oh really?” Steve challenged with a grin. “Then why do I have a sketch of it?”

“You do not!” Tony protested, looking affronted.

“Oh yes I do,” Steve was still grinning fondly as he let go of Tony’s hands and reached into the box on the bed. He pulled out his sketchbook and flipped to one of the more recent drawings. Sure enough, Steve had sketched Tony and Rhodey from a month ago when Rhodey had visited briefly. They had played video games until practically dawn and had fallen asleep in the rec room. Technically, they weren’t spooning, but it was a near thing. Steve’s sketch showed both of them on the carpeted floor with Tony perpendicular to Rhodey, his head in Rhodey’s lap, limbs akimbo, and the controller threatening to fall from his outstretched hand. While Tony was lying down, Rhodey was still seated upright, his head leaning back on the front of the couch. The hand with the controller was wedged somewhere between Tony’s body and the floor.

“Does Rhodey know about this?” Tony flicked his gaze back to Steve, his expression somewhere between surprised and mortified by the sketch. His sleeping expression looked positively _adorable_ in the drawing, a stylistic embellishment he was sure was Steve’s doing. Tony Stark didn’t do ‘cute and fluffy.’ He was Iron Man for goodness sakes.

“Yeah. He woke up while I was still drawing and was nice enough to stay until I finished.”

“Why didn’t he say anything to _me_?” Tony whined.

Steve shrugged. “Blackmail, maybe.” When Tony buried his hands in his face and gave a moan, Steve said, “Oh, come on, Tony. You look cute.”

“Tony Stark does not do ‘cute,’ Steve! I’m Iron Man, not a bunny rabbit!”

Steve just laughed. He set the sketchbook down and wrapped an arm around Tony’s waist. “Are we okay now?” he asked softly.

“Yeah, we’re okay,” Tony relented.

“Promise me the next time you’re having a problem with something I’ve done, you’ll come to me first, instead of automatically thinking the worst. I don’t want to be shut out again. I want to work through these things with you, Tony.” He added, “That’s what couples do, right?”

Tony nodded.

“Then promise me.”

“I’ll come to you first, next time, instead of shutting you out. I promise,” Tony said, meaning every word.

“There. That wasn’t so hard.” Steve smiled, pulling back a little. “Now we can get to the good part.”

Tony raised an eyebrow questioningly, as if to say “ _Which is...?_ ”

Steve laughed. “Make up sex, silly!” He gave Tony a peck on the lips before drawing Tony onto the bed. He added in a sultry tone, “And we’ve both got a lot of making up to do.”

Tony let out a breathy noise. “Yeah. Yeah we do.”

 

Things slowly got better after that, and Tony could tell that Steve was making an effort spend time exclusively with Tony, even if it was just to cook dinner for Tony in their apartment or bring his sketchbook into Tony’s workshop while he ran tests on the next prototype of Barnes’ bionic arm. It helped that SHIELD was finished with its interrogation of Bucky, and Steve was back to a lighter workload.

Steve said he spoke to Bucky about trying to get along better with Tony, but it didn’t appear to make a difference. Tony put in the effort to include Barnes in their Avengers movie nights and even began remodeling the empty floor to give him his own living quarters. If that didn’t say “I want us to get along for Steve’s sake,” Tony didn’t know what did, but it was to no avail.

It was Natasha’s turn to cook for weekly Avengers night and she had employed Barnes’ services for it. They worked as a team, quietly conversing in Russian and English as Natasha sliced vegetables and Barnes watched over the dumplings cooking on the stove. It was here, where Tony knew Barnes couldn’t slip away, that Tony decided to call him out on what seemed like his latest snub.

As the rest of the team filed in, taking their seats at the table, Tony walked over to Barnes and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “There you are!” Tony said as genially as he could. “I was wondering where you were. I thought you said you were going to come down to the workshop today for your arm. I upgraded the sensitivity and precision in the fingers for you to try.” He took his own place at the table.

“It musta slipped my mind,” Barnes replied in a tone that said he wasn’t very sorry. He placed the last of the food on the table before sitting down between Natasha and Steve.

Steve seemed to have gotten the same impression as Tony because he said in a falsely sweet voice, “Really, Bucky? Yesterday you said that the elbow joint was bothering you a little. I thought you woulda seen Tony about it by now.”

Bucky shrugged, not quite meeting Steve’s eye. “Well it wasn’t botherin’ me today, so I kinda forgot about it.”

Steve wasn’t done yet. “Then it’s lucky that Tony’s got an upgrade for you to try. You can get the elbow looked at and the upgrade at the same time. What time are you free tomorrow, Tony?”

Tony shrugged. “Well I’ve got a meeting with Pepper in the morning, then we’ll be in the time travel lab for most of the day. Probably evening, after dinnertime.”

“Sounds like a plan. Bucky’ll stop by around eight, right Buck?” Steve clapped Bucky on the shoulder.

Bucky’s smile looked more like a grimace. “Sure thing, Steve. Tony,” he nodded in Tony’s direction.

The rest of dinner went by uneventfully. Well, as uneventfully as an Avengers get together could be—at least there was no food fighting involved. Long after the movie (Pulp Fiction) ended, when Tony and Steve were in their bedroom, Steve brushing his teeth while Tony peeled off his clothes, Tony blurted, “I’m trying to get along with Bucky, I really am, Steve.”

Tony waited for Steve to finish brushing his teeth before the reply came, “I know. It’s not you, it’s him. I’ve talked to Bucky about this before, too. I know you’re making the effort, and I’m grateful for it.” He leaned over to give Tony a minty-fresh kiss before padding over to their bed. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he comes around tomorrow.”

 

Sure enough, at eight o’clock on the dot the next day, Tony heard a knock on the glass door of his workshop. He didn’t need JARVIS to tell him that it was Barnes, requesting access to the lab. With one verbal command to his AI, the door unlocked itself and Barnes walked in.

“Right on time,” Tony remarked, a feat that was no doubt Cap’s doing. He gestured to a high-backed reclining chair, “Take a seat and I’ll go through the upgrade.” While Barnes gingerly lowered himself into the chair, Tony grabbed a spare mock-up arm, a new layer of synthetic skin hot off the printer, and his toolbox. Then he made his way over to Barnes.

“Alright. So when Dad and I built the arm, we left wiring in here,” Tony gestured to the fingertips on the mock-up, “which right now isn’t connected to anything on you. It’s _supposed_ to connect to tiny computerized sensory inputs in the fingertips on the metal and on the skin, neither of which your arm is equipped with right now. So, I’m going to take off the skin you have, add the right parts, and connect the wiring to it, which will improve the sensory. Make sense?”

Under normal circumstances, Barnes would experience touch through the sensors on the false skin. But there was always the possibility it could rip off in a fight if pushed hard enough, and it would be important to still have the sensations of touch buried into the metal itself.

Barnes nodded, swallowed thickly and said, “Got it. Will it hurt when you wire in the connections?”

“Nothing like when we first connected the arm. Theoretically, just a twinge.”

“Theoretically,” Barnes echoed.

Tony grinned wryly. “Yeah, so tell me if it hurts.” Though Tony had a feeling he would know if it did.

They fell into silence as Tony peeled away the false skin and got to work on rewiring the fingertips. It was delicate work and Tony needed to concentrate if he wanted to attach and wire everything correctly.  In the end, Barnes didn’t feel anything more than just a twinge, like Tony promised.

Before putting the false skin back on, Tony prompted, “Steve said you were having a problem with the elbow joint?”

Barnes nodded. “Yeah. It just seems… I dunno, a little loose. ‘S like, when I want to bend it, I can feel it slipping a little, like it wants to straighten out.”

“Let me take a look,” Tony said, gingerly lifting Barnes’ elbow up so he could duck underneath to inspect it. He popped off the outer protective plate, looking at the inner workings and recognized the problem almost immediately. “You’ve got a joint connection loose in here, that’s for sure. It just needs tightening up. Hmm… where’d that screwdriver go. Here, it’ll just take a sec…” Tony applied enough torque to fit the screw back in place tightly. “Try it now, see if that feels better.”

Barnes punched the air a few times, simulating a fight scenario. “Yeah, that feels a lot better.”

“Good. Let’s get that skin back on and you can be out of here in no time.” He shot Barnes a grin. In the midst of re-attaching the synthetic skin, he decided to put it out in the open, “I know you’re not down here for my winning personality. Steve made you come, didn’t he?”

Barnes winced. “Yeah. Steve wanted me to come down here because….” he trailed off, watching Tony adhere the skin back on while trying to figure out what he wanted to say. He changed directions and said, “The first time I met you, I didn’t know you were Howard’s kid. Once I found out, well… it’s no secret I’ve been avoiding you and that’s the reason why. Look, there’s really no good way to say this, so I’ll just come out with it. Y’know the car accident your parents died in, back in ’91?”

That got Tony’s full attention and he paused in his work to look up at Barnes. “Yes, of course I do. It was an accident, another careless driver on the road.”

“I had a hit out on your father,” Barnes said bluntly. “I was given the order to take out Howard because of the work he’d done fighting the Soviets and it was scheduled for two days— _two days_ —after he died in that accident. I had no idea who I was, had no idea Howard was a friend to me, and it scares me ‘cause I woulda done it, too. I can’t even _tell him_ , ‘cause he’s not suppose to know how he dies and, and you’re the closest family he has.” By the end, his voice was strained with emotion.

“I get it.” So that’s why Barnes had been avoiding him, because he had almost assassinated Tony’s father? Tony was reeling from the admission, but he tried to pull himself together. One of them had to be composed. “Does Steve know?”

“Yeah. Him and Natasha. They both said I should come tell you myself, since I can’t tell Howard. Had to work up the nerve first.”

Tony managed to reign in the dozens of emotions flitting through him—shock, fear, unease, weariness, exasperation—but just barely. Playing the role of ‘priest at confessional’ was not his strong suit. He’d rather hand that role off to Steve, but it was clear that Barnes needed to hear something from Tony himself. “But you didn’t do it. You didn’t... assassinate him,” Tony tried to wrap his head around the idea, “and that’s what counts.”

Barnes shook his head. “But what if I had? Howard wasn’t just Steve’s buddy, he was _my_ friend, too. He drank with us, he played cards with us, he outfitted us so we wouldn’t get killed in the field, an’ it makes me _sick_ , knowing that a stupid car accident is all that stood between me taking him out. I never woulda done if I had known, if I had remembered who I was and who he was. It’s hard enough seeing him here, spending time with him an’ Steve, knowing what’ll happen to him in another eight years. I can’t stop thinking about ‘what if?’”

Ah. So that’s why Barnes was a wreck over this. He needed absolution.

Tony took a long couple of minutes, first to let the idea of what Barnes was saying sink in, and then to really think about it. What if Barnes _had_ followed orders and taken out Howard Stark? It was hard to imagine and Tony wondered if it would have really made a difference in the grand scheme of things, but he kept coming up with ‘no.’ No, it wouldn’t have. Tony still would have become CEO of Stark Industries, and it still would have led him to where he was now.

That fatal car crash was one of those truly life-changing moments in his past, one that set him down a path of trying to lead Stark Industries with Obadiah to guide him; a path that ultimately led to him being kidnapped in Afghanistan, which led to the creation of the Iron Man suit. The mathematicians were right when they said it was like a butterfly flapping its wings. One changed event could have altered his future. It was a complicated web to untangle; he mourned the death of his mother, and though he wouldn’t admit it at the time, his father too, but didn’t regret his experience immediately after, leading Stark Industries into the future. He regretted trusting Obadiah so much, and definitely being kidnapped, but didn’t regret the Iron Man suit that came out of it. These things were intertwined, and if there was something he was starting to learn after almost two months of working on a time machine and thinking about time travel, it was that you couldn’t pick and choose what you wanted to change. You had to take the bad with the good, because it wasn’t just the good things that shaped a person, but the bad things, too.

Of course, the other reason why he would have forgiven Barnes easily enough was because, quite simply, he had been brainwashed. Barnes himself had already admitted that he wouldn’t have done it if he had known. Intent made all the difference and that was enough for Tony, but he guessed that Steve had already tried and gone down that route with Barnes, to no avail.

Thinking again, what if it had come to pass? Well, Tony knew what it was like to want forgiveness for the things he’d done, the things he hadn’t meant to do, the things that had happened because of his own stupid negligence, not watching where his weapons were going. Ah, now that he could say.

“For what it’s worth,” he said, looking straight at Barnes, “I’d forgive you anyway, even if you had gone through with it. Look up my history sometime, if you haven’t already. You’re not the only one who wants absolution for their mistakes.”

Barnes nodded slowly and slumped back in his chair, visibly relaxed.

After that, they both remained silent as Tony finished adhering the synthetic skin back onto Barnes’ metal arm. “Thank you,” Barnes said again, getting up from the chair. Tony wasn’t sure if he was referring to the arm repair, their conversation, or both.

“Sure,” Tony said, packing up his tools. “You know, you pick really crappy reasons for avoiding people,” he said, thinking of how Barnes had also avoided Steve when he first got his memories back. “So will you stop avoiding me now? It’s getting tedious, you know.”

“Yeah, ‘course. Sorry about that.” Barnes had the grace to blush. “Steve warned me not to say this, but you really remind me of Howard. You’ve done a lot for me since I came here, same as he would, and I appreciate it.”

Tony didn’t usually like to be compared to his dad, but his relationship with Howard was changing, and if Barnes was doing it to highlight his generosity, maybe that wasn’t so bad after all. “Any friend of Steve’s is welcome here,” Tony shrugged. He added, “Speaking of which, think we should go tell Steve we kissed and made up?”

Barnes—no, _Bucky_ , he tried to think—let out a short laugh. “Yeah. I reckon so. Only without the kissing part,” he grinned in Tony’s direction, “Natashenka would gut me if she found out I was mackin’ on my best friend’s beau.”

The surprised look on Tony’s face was worth it to Bucky and he let out another laugh, while Tony wasn’t sure what to make of being called someone else’s “beau.”

On the elevator ride back up, they compared notes on Steve, joking and mock-insulting each other. Tony was already starting to like Bucky; maybe they’d get along, after all. Bucky waited until they had almost arrived at their respective floors when he turned to Tony and said, “Speakin’ of my best friend, ya know how this arm can punch through concrete?”

“Yeah, what of it?”

“If you hurt Steve, I can promise it’ll go through your face.” Barnes threw a wicked grin in Tony’s direction.

The elevator pinged and Bucky let himself out, leaving a stunned Tony in his wake. This was only the third time someone had threatened him over Steve, after Thor and Natasha. (Tony had it on good authority that Clint and Bruce had threatened Steve similarly over Tony). When Tony told this to Steve, who was waiting for Tony in their room, Steve pointed out that to be fair, Howard had given a warning to him, so they were probably even now. Who would have thought they’d both get threatened over each other by two men back from the dead? Tony laughed once more before climbing into bed with Steve.


	14. Chapter 14

Sooner than Tony would have thought, the time travel project was quickly coming to a close. Tony, Bruce, Jane, and Howard stood around the large structure, staring at it apprehensively. Bruce was the first to voice what they were all thinking.

“Are we sure this is going to work?”

“I think this is as sure as we’re going to get, pal,” Howard said.

“Maybe we should angle it toward the window,” Jane suggested, unconsciously taking a step back from it. “You know, in case the four-dimensional external dampener doesn’t work, it’ll only blow a hole through the window, and not the lab, too.” Since they had positioned the wormhole to open up horizontally, instead of vertically into the sky, they’d placed a dampener on the other end of the circular gate to make sure the wormhole didn’t bleed through the other side of it.

“Good idea,” Tony nodded, “Bruce, help me turn this ninety degrees.”

They moved both parts of the structure, the gate itself and the connecting hardware that housed the Tesseract and the workings that would generate the wormhole, in short order. Which left them back to staring at it apprehensively in silence.

Tony took a step forward this time. “Well, it’s now or never, right? Let’s flip the switch.”

The four of them spent the next few minutes fiddling with the dials, making sure everything was calibrated as it should be. Then, Howard took a deep breath and flipped the switch on.

The hum of electricity and the energy generated by the Tesseract were audible. When they looked up from behind the console, there was a collective sigh of relief. The external dampener had done its job; there was no hole in the lab window.

As they walked around to examine it, Tony couldn’t help but be a little shocked. On one side of the gate there was a swirling mass of blue light and an endless hole of black darkness in the middle, and when he walked around to the other side, there was nothing except the solid metal frame housing the dampener.

“We did it. We actually did it!” Howard said excitedly, marveling at the gate much like Tony had done.

“Well, we don’t know that for sure,” Jane said. “Hmm… I feel like we should send something, other than you, through the portal first.”

Bruce picked up a green apple lying on the work table behind him, someone’s uneaten breakfast, and tossed it underhand into the vortex. After a second or two, the vortex swallowed up the apple without any fanfare.

“Well at least we know it probably won’t fry me,” Howard tried to joke.

“But how do we know if the apple made it to the other side?” Jane asked.

Tony thought about it for a minute before he said, “Okay. Let’s say it did work, and the apple did end up in your lab at the Townhouse, Dad. That means we _know_ it can send you back. Because we’re talking about it now, when you’re back in 1983 you could confirm whether or not the apple made it through okay by writing it down in a notebook, and leaving it in a place for me to find later, as in, today.  If your notes are there, we know the Einstein-Rosen bridge worked. If they aren’t there, it means we have to fix something before we send you through.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Howard agreed. “Now, where could I put my notes so that you would still hold onto it today?”

“The library in the Townhouse,” Tony replied. “I still own it, but I never go there, and there was no point in cleaning out the library, there are so many books. Think of where you’d leave it and we’ll go look now.”

Howard thought for a moment and then said, “I have it. Are we going to take the car?”

“Sure, but I’m driving.”

The four of them drove over to the old Stark Townhouse, though the word “Townhouse” was somewhat of a misnomer, as the building was really more of a mansion. The grounds made up an entire city block, and the mansion covered about half of it. Tony unlocked the doors and the four of them entered the foyer. Tony had the building cleaned and maintained regularly so there were no cobwebs or layers of dust over the furniture.

They made their way to the library and Howard went over to a spot tucked away in the corner. Howard pulled the sliding library ladder over and climbed up to the top shelf before removing a thick tome. He opened up the book, the pages of which had been cut away to reveal a leather-bound notebook stuffed inside. He chucked it down to Tony, who caught it, and replaced the cut-out book on its shelf. “What does it say?” he asked while climbing down.

“Tuesday, October 4th, 1983,” Tony read out loud, “The apple arrived safely. I’m eating it now. Will report again in three days.” Howard, Jane, and Bruce had come around to read over his shoulder. Further down the page it read, “Friday, October 7th, 1983. I have experienced no adverse side effects from the apple, and I believe the device is safe to use.”

“Well, I guess that settles it,” Jane said.

Bruce shook his head in disagreement, “That was just an apple. Shouldn’t we try something bigger? And um, alive? Like a chicken.”

“A chicken?” Howard looked skeptical.

“Well, chicks actually, but yes. I was thinking you could get three, you know, just to be on the safe side. It would allow you to observe their development and see if they grow properly. They’re pretty trainable, too, so you could test their cognitive function as well.”

Tony gave Bruce a long-suffering look, muttering about where they were going to find chicks in New York City. “You owe me.” Nevertheless, he took out his phone and googled, “Nearest chicken farm.”

In the end, they found an organic farm out in Brooklyn with three newly hatched chicks. After assuring the somewhat hippie owners that the chicks would be well cared for well into adulthood and allowed to live their natural life-span, the four of them hopped back in Tony’s car, the chicks running around in the back with Jane and Bruce (the owners didn’t have anything to carry them in and so they were forced to carry the little buggers in their hands).

“I’m beginning to regret this idea,” Howard murmured, thinking of how long he’d have to take care of the chickens once he returned to 1983.

“If those things poop all over my floor back there, I’m making you clean it, Bruce!” Tony called over the cacophony of the chirping chicks.

“Uh huh, Tony,” Bruce said, leaning over to scoop up one of the fluffy yellow baby chickens. “Little busy back here.”

“Come here little chickie,” Tony heard Jane coo from behind him. “Why don’t you come sit in my lap and fall asleep for a while? Bruce, can you round up the little one over there?”

Half-way through the drive, the three chickadees that had been chirping nonstop mercifully fell asleep, to the relief of everyone in the car.

As soon as they got back to the Tower, Tony darted from the car and grabbed a cardboard box. He returned to the vehicle and just as Bruce was about to get out, shoved the box into his hand with a glare. “Here. You’re the one who wanted these damn things, you can carry them up to the lab.”

“You really want to send someone through a wormhole without doing a trial run, first?” Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow. He knew exactly what the price of not testing out your experiments was, and it made sense that he was always harping on Tony about safety.

“Of course not,” Tony replied, “But did it have to be chickens? We could have sent a dog.”

“It certainly wouldn’t have made so much noise,” Jane added.

“Really, it’s fine,” Howard said, “Chickens look easy to take care of. Well, easier than a dog, anyway. Besides, I’m allergic.”

They waited for the elevator to arrive and when it did, it wasn’t empty. Clint, Bucky, and Natasha all stepped out, clearly heading somewhere. As they said their hellos to one another, Clint looked over into the box Bruce was carrying and said, “Those are chicks. Bruce, why do you have a box of baby chickens with you?”

“We’re testing the wormhole,” Jane said helpfully.

“And where are you three going?” Tony asked, curious.

“The Triskelion,” Bucky said. “This guy here,” he gestured to Clint, “thinks he can take me in marksmanship. He doesn’t know how wrong he is yet.”

“In your dreams, buddy, in your dreams,” Clint replied, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “I’ll show you what a real sharpshooter looks like.”

“I have a few things I need to do at headquarters,” Natasha said. “And I figured I should make sure these two don’t kill each other.”

“Where are Steve and Thor?” Tony asked again. They seemed to be the only ones missing.

Clint and Bucky shrugged while Natasha said, “They’re sparring outside on the terrain field at the Triskelion.”

“Good,” Tony said. “That’s where they should be, since _one of them_ is banned from the gym in the Tower until he can control himself.” The first and only time Steve and Thor had sparred there, the gym had been demolished from head to toe, in part by Thor’s hammer and Steve’s shield, but mostly because of Thor’s god-like strength. After that, Thor was forbidden to spar in there.

Tony, Howard, Jane, and Bruce said their goodbyes to the other three before getting back to the lab. Howard flipped the switch for the time machine on again but both Bruce and Jane hesitated to throw the chicks head-first into the swirling blue mess. Exasperated, Tony grabbed the box with the chicks from Bruce and gently shoved it toward the gate, letting the vortex slowly suck it inwards. They waited exactly five minutes (who knew how long it would take to get to the other side, although, technically, they postulated that it _should_ be instantaneous) before Howard flipped the switch again to turn it off.

Tony grabbed the notebook, not exactly sure what to expect. When he opened it again, the words on the page had shifted, with added daily entries on the well-being of the chickens. He flipped through, only to find more and more entries filling up the pages. He casually handed the notebook over to Howard, Bruce, and Jane, who took turns skimming through the pages.

“It looks like the wormhole is safe to me,” Howard declared after half an hour of reading entries. “The chickens arrived in one piece, their development was normal, and they were easily trained. Nothing in here suggests that those three chicks grew up to be anything but normal chickens that I took care of.”

“You’re not... you’re not going to go back now right now, are you?” Jane asked tentatively.

Howard paused and so did Bruce and Tony, who looked at him expectantly.

“Um... well....” he stuttered, not sure what to say. It seemed Jane didn’t want him to go right away, and truth be told, he didn’t, either.

Neither did Tony, as it turned out, because he chimed in, “Of course not. I’m sure you’ve got a few things you want to wrap up with Fury at SHIELD. Might take a few days, right?”

“Yes,” Howard nodded, more sure of himself now, “At least a few more days.”

 

In the end, they decided Howard would leave at the end of the week, which would give him plenty of time to get his SHIELD affairs in order and begin prepping for his return. It also gave the Avengers time to plan a proper going-away party for him. It was funny: when his dad had first arrived here, Tony couldn’t wait to get Howard out of his hair. And now, a little more than two months later, he found that he was actually going to be _sad_ to see his dad go.

Now that the time machine was fully functional, Tony no longer had a project to concentrate on. Gone were the excuses he had for missing company meetings, and he couldn’t help feeling resentful of the fact. He felt like he was wasting precious time in the office when he could be spending time with his dad, which was maybe why he was hiding out in the time travel lab when Howard walked in.

“Tony!” he said, surprised. “I was just looking for you.”

“Yeah? What is it, Dad?”

“Ah, well, I know I’m not supposed to bring anything back with me, but since you and I were never big on sticking to the rules, I thought you could help me with one last project.”

Tony smiled, and as Howard laid out the basics of his idea, he grinned even wider.

 

The going away party, Tony could safely say, was one of the best he’d put together in a long time. All of the Avengers, plus Bucky, Jane, Darcy, Pepper, Happy, Rhodey, Agent Coulson, and even Director Fury himself came to dance, drink, and celebrate together. Howard was uncharacteristically late for his own celebration, arriving with Bruce in tow, but it wasn’t long before the party was in full-swing with JARVIS taking on the role of DJ using Tony’s extensive music collection that was better described as a music database.

The party went on well after midnight, so it wasn’t until the afternoon of the next day that Howard was scheduled to depart. He was packing up the last of his things when Tony came in.

“Tony,” said Howard warmly.

“You have everything, Dad?” Tony nodded to the small hand case. In the end, the Avengers, and SHIELD, had decided to allow Howard to take back a few things with him to the past that probably wouldn’t mess up any fixed points in time, mostly clothes that would have otherwise sit unused here in the Tower. Howard was also taking back a notebook filled with instructions on certain events that he _was_ supposed to influence, like leaving information on the arc reactor for Tony or the details of the cryogenic technology Howard had created to bring Steve out of the ice. When he asked, Tony wasn’t referring to either of those things, of course.

“Yeah, I have everything,” Howard grinned and Tony both knew they were thinking of the final project they had worked on together. Howard sat down on the mattress and patted an empty spot next to him, “Come here, sit with me for a minute.” Tony obliged and after a moment Howard said, “You know, I’m gonna miss you, kid.”

“Not a kid anymore,” Tony protested, but without any heat to it.

Howard just laughed, “You’ll always be my son, and a kid to me, no matter how old you get.”

“I don’t see how you could miss me. I’m still going to be alive when you go back to 1983,” Tony said.

“You know what I mean,” Howard gave a wry smile. He was going to miss Tony as he was now, all grown up. “You know, there’s something I didn’t say about the Norn Stones when I got here. It’s true that I was thinking of the double work for SHIELD and the latest shareholder meeting, but I was thinking about you and your mom, too. I wanted more time with you, and I think that’s why the stone brought me here. You’re an amazing kid. My pride and joy. I’m so proud of who you’ve become, and you should be proud of yourself. It’s been a privilege getting to know you as an adult.”

“You could stay, you know,” Tony proposed, half-hoping his dad would agree, half-knowing he wouldn’t. “Now that we know how to calibrate the machine, we could hop through time, make sure the important events happen like they should, and then you could stay here.”

Howard shook his head. “It doesn’t work like that, Tony. Besides, I have a very important mission waiting for me back where I came from.”

“And that is?”

“To be a better father to you.”

Tony sucked in a breath, stunned into silence. In a gesture that was now becoming familiar to him, Howard pulled Tony into a hug and held on. Tony savored the contact, knowing his Dad would be gone again soon, this time forever.

It was he who said it first this time, “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, son.” They drew apart and Howard said, “Now, come on. Let’s get up to the lab. I’m sure the others will be wondering where we are.”

And so they made their way up to the time travel lab, where sure enough, the Avengers, Jane, Darcy, Pepper, Bucky, Coulson, Hill, and Fury were waiting for them.

“This is the last time I let you into my house,” Tony strolled in and pointed to Fury and Hill, who rolled their eyes at Tony’s empty threat.

Howard said goodbye to each of them in turn, beginning with himself and ending with Bucky, Steve, and then Tony. He had said his goodbyes to Steve and Bucky privately, earlier, so there wasn’t much to say to them now, other than a few platitudes to take care.

He hugged Tony one last time and said in his ear, “Take care of yourself, Tony.”

“You too, Dad.”

Tony let go and stepped around to the other side of the console to check the machine’s levels and turn on the power. A familiar blue vortex appeared inside the gate, and more than a few murmurs went through the room, impressed by the technology. Howard gave one last wave to all of them, and with his small suitcase in hand, stepped through the portal. He was gone in an instant.

As agreed, they left the portal open until receiving confirmation from Howard that he had made it through okay, which came in the form of a note, hastily scrawled on a torn out scrap of paper.

_Made it through okay. - H. S._

Steve read out the note and nodded to Tony, who killed the switch. Their work was done here.

Slowly, everyone filed out of the room until it was just Steve and Pepper left.

And that’s when Tony was struck by a weird sensation in his head. He let out a hiss of pain and staggered as Steve and Pepper rushed to get him to a chair.

“Tony!” Pepper cried.

Steve asked, “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

“Give me a minute,” Tony said, panting.

After some time had passed, Pepper asked tentatively, “Are you okay?”

“Ah, yeah, I think I’m okay, I just...” Tony shook his head to clear it, “This is so weird, but I think I have two sets of memories in my head. It’s... it’s like I had two childhoods in my teen years and early twenties: the one without my dad around like I’ve always remembered, and now one with him calling me and spending time with me. This... I don’t understand what happened.”

“I do,” Steve said, nodding along like what Tony said made perfect sense. “Howard, Thor, and I theorized that this might happen. That you were too close to the changes made, too close to the ‘epicenter of the storm,’ Thor said, so you retained both your earlier memories and acquired the new ones.”

“So he...?”

Steve nodded. “Time can be re-written.”

Tony laughed. His dad wasn’t kidding when he promised he was going to be a better father to Tony. He studied Steve for a minute, and after another memory came to him unbidden, said, “Wait. Did _you_ tell my dad when he was going to die? Is that why he... Is that why I remember that day differently now?”

Steve shifted, looking uncomfortable. Finally he said, “I didn’t tell him how it happened or any of the details, I just told him the date and made him promise not to try to get out of it.”

Tony’s jaw dropped before he collected himself, grinning widely. “Guess I’m not the only one who broke the rules.”

Steve returned his grin.

“What did you do now, Tony?” Pepper asked in an admonishing tone.

“Nothing major, Pep,” he waved a hand as he stood up. “Dad asked me to send him some low-grade tech, that’s all. I stripped a couple of StarkPads down to the VoIP video conferencing. All he has to do is set up a satellite and bam! Instant video communication with anyone on the other end.”

She sighed, taking a glance out the window. “Well, the world doesn’t look like it’s ending, so I guess it turned out okay.”

“And if not, we’ll deal with it as it comes,” Steve added genially. “Come on, let’s get outta here. It’s almost dinner time and I don’t know about you, but I could eat.”

As they headed down to the main floor, Steve and Pepper keeping up a stream of conversation, Tony reflected on the long forgotten new memories that now lived in the back of his mind.

Instead of spending years at MIT without seeing his dad, he now recalled bi-weekly Sunday video calls (courtesy of stolen future technology) with Howard during his time at college. Whereas before, Maria and a seventeen year old Tony had arranged the interview with Popular Mechanics as the only way to show Howard the AI robot that Tony had built, the interview had now been requisitioned at Howard’s behest to show the world his son’s brilliant achievement.

Not everything was perfect—Howard _still_ forgot his sixteenth birthday (but bought him a Porsche convertible out of guilt, to make up for it), he completely missed Tony’s master’s thesis presentation even though he _promised_ he’d be there, he didn’t come home for the holidays the year Tony turned nineteen, and he forgot to call on Sundays occasionally—but it was better. Tony didn’t have to try so hard to capture his father’s attention. Praise and love came more freely than before.

And then there was the last changed memory, courtesy of Steve. It was weird, having this memory he knew was recently acquired, but which felt like it had always been there. Whereas before, a twenty-one year old Tony had argued bitterly with his father the night before Howard died, there was now no argument. Now, Tony had a memory of his mom and dad video-calling him the morning of their deaths, for no reason other than to say hello. His mother sent her love and said she was looking forward to spending Christmas together.

And if he closed his eyes, Tony could picture his dad on the video screen, “ _I almost can’t believe you’re finishing up your PhD in a few weeks. I am so proud of you, and I know I am going to be proud of the man you’re becoming. I love you, Tony, always remember that.”_

And so he did.


	15. Credits

Wow! This is my first time ever writing a fic that’s more than 10K. I’m quite proud of myself so I hope you’ll forgive my indulgence for having a chapter full of notes. If you want more story, there’s an “After the Credits” scene in the next chapter, so do skip ahead!

**Inspiration**

Some credit is due to [The Twice Told Tale](../../411599) as inspiration for this fic. After reading it, I desperately wanted the reverse - where Howard travels _forward_ in time to see his son’s achievements. Finding exactly one fic with this premise and wanting more, I began to plot the idea for this fic, but the resolve to write it didn’t come until I read [Let’s Stop the Time Warp](../../579008/). Reading a well-done fic with a lot of science jargon convinced me that maybe writing a fic with a wormhole wasn’t so outlandish or crazy. And from there, this fic was born!

**MCU Howard vs. 616 Howard**

Before I get any complaints about my characterization of Howard, I’d like to put this out there: I’m writing Howard Stark in the Marvel Cinematic Universe and NOT the 616 Universe. There are many posts on the internet detailing the alcoholic, abusive father that is 616-Howard, and I make no apologies for 616-Howard Stark in a well established canon. But I think it’s fair to say that MCU-Howard is a different character who does not have those same canon details to his name.

If your headcanon of MCU-Howard is that he did the exact same things as 616-Howard, that’s fine, but please also recognize there are other perfectly valid interpretations of MCU-Howard that still adhere to movie canon but that don’t follow 616-Howard’s actions, such as the one I’ve written here.

I want to re-iterate that we know very little about MCU-Howard, or how he got from the cheerful, suave Howard Stark of 1943 to the cynical, distant, bad father Howard Stark of 1974. There is a lot of freedom for authors to move around in the grey spaces, and to mold an MCU-Howard to their story’s needs. I’ve read many, many, many renditions of MCU-Howard Stark. Some of them show him as more distant and abusive to Tony than I’ve written here, and some of them less. The nature of this fix-it!fic required his brand of neglect/abuse to be more on the mild side, but I have found all of the interpretations and headcanons I’ve read to be interesting and valid.

I sincerely hope that no one thinks I haven’t treated the issues (as depicted here) of child abuse/neglect seriously. I have done my best to give the topic the proper seriousness it deserves, as much as can be possible within the context of this fictional story. Please also keep in mind that we all grew up with different childhoods; just because this fic doesn’t reflect your experience doesn’t make your experience, OR the nature of this story’s events, invalid, and I hope no one has taken offense. You’re welcome to drop me a line privately (my LJ username is Tsaritsa_Elena and I look at my private messages), but let’s not create drama in the comments. Thanks.

**SHIELD Files**

One of the extras on _The Avengers_ Blu-Ray is a set of files for the Avengers, plus files on Howard Stark, Peggy, and the Commandos. There are details in my fic that do not jive with these files (for example, I say Tony went to boarding school when he was 9 and entered college at 13 and got his masters; the files say he went to boarding school at 7 and entered college at 14 and didn’t get his masters). However, I am handwaving the files because honestly? They’re just inaccurate. They say Tony has black hair (he does in the comics but RDJ has brown hair - come on, really?), they omit that he speaks French, there are at least two or three different birthdays for Tony Stark running around in versions of the files, and most importantly, _Tony has the same Social Security Number as Steve_. If that doesn’t say, “I did not cross check the facts of these files I made up before I put them together,” I don’t know what does. It was the final straw for me and I no longer take anything those files say to be canon, for Tony or anyone else. Just wanted to explain any “inconsistencies” you may find in the fic! =)

**Configuration of Stark Tower**

So... the MetLife Building has 58 floors on it. Based on a [screenshot](http://lifesansbldgs.tumblr.com/post/22322051933/i-put-together-this-quick-side-by-side-of-the) comparing the Metlife Building with Stark Tower, and the screenshots of the [top floors](http://images1.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20120229212336/marvelmovies/images/f/f2/Stark_Tower.jpg) of the Tower, I “guesstimated” that Stark Tower was about 70 floors. In the screenshot of the Tower, I counted six top floors (presumably the Avengers’ private apartments), plus what looked like _two_ main living floors. I guessed they were main living floors because they both had living room furniture in them.

I know Tony says in the movie that the top ten floors of Stark Tower were R&D but I decided that he was 1) fibbing a little - the labs hadn’t been installed yet and 2) after the invasion, he and Pepper reconfigured the top floors into living quarters and moved the plans for the labs down a few floors. So, based on some tweaking with canon, this is the living quarters’ configuration I thought up:

Floor 70 - Clint’s Apartment  
Floor 69 - Natasha’s Apartment  
Floor 68 - Thor’s Apartment  
Floor 67 - Bruce’s Apartment (Strategically between Thor & Steve in case he Hulks out)  
Floor 66 - Steve’s Apartment  
Floor 65 - Tony’s Apartment  
Floor 64 - Secondary Living Floor; never used, converted into an apartment for Bucky Barnes  
Floor 63 - Main Living Floor, where Team Bonding Night happens  
Floor 62 - Medical Bay  
Floor 61 - Gym with Sparring Area  
Floor 60 - Shooting Range  
Floor 59 - Lab with the Hulk Containment Chamber  
Floor 58 - Bruce’s personal lab  
Floor 57 - Time Travel lab (Before then, Bruce & Tony’s joint lab for running projects together)  
Floor 56 - Tony’s personal lab (different that his personal workshop where he houses the Iron Man suits, which is in the basement)  
Floor 55 - Lab with specialized scientific equipment. This is open to Bruce and also to the R&D team at SI and is the highest floor any SI Employee can have access to.  
Floor 54 & Below - Other R&D Labs, corporate offices, etc.

**A Brief Note on Russian Diminutives**

So as you may have noticed, Bucky gets called three names by Natasha: Yakov, Yasha, and Yashenka. In Russian, every name has several diminutives to go with it (which is what makes reading classic Russian literature difficult if you’re not familiar with it). Different ‘levels’ of diminutives indicate different levels of familiarity and give off a different meaning. For example, in English, you might say Nicholas, Nick, and Nicky, with each one meaning a different thing. If you’re colleagues, you might use Nick or Yasha (Natasha is a diminutive on this level - Natalia is the formal name). The form Yashenka denotes a greater familiarity and level of affection, so when Bucky and Natasha use “Natashenka” and “Yashenka” for each other, it’s because they’re lovers. There are other levels of diminutives and other forms of diminutives on the same level, but I won’t go into them here. If you want to know more, there are plenty of resources out there to check out.

**Other Resources Used**

Wikipedia, including but not limited to such pages as [Time Travel](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Time_travel), the [TARDIS](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tardis), the [Tesseract](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tesseract), [Kaluza-Klein Theory](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kaluza%E2%80%93Klein_theory), [1963 in Science](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1963_in_science), and [SHIELD](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/SHIELD).

I also found the articles on [this page](http://www.npl.washington.edu/av/av_index.html) by John G. Cramer, particularly “[Group 6 - Wormholes](http://www.npl.washington.edu/av/av_index.html#6)” to be helpful reading for conceptualizing a wormhole.

I also have to say I poured over pages on the Marvel Wikia, particularly the Winter Soldier’s page. Everything about the implants I made up; I ended up reading the Captain America & Winter Soldier comics after I wrote what I did here. Wow was I off-base. *shrugs* Artistic license.

All of the medical information I read on concussions says that yes, you should wake them every few hours for the first 24 hours as a check-up. But it also said that blacking out from a concussion usually lasts no more than 5 minutes, which is why I had Bucky struggling not long after.

It’s funny the details one obsesses over when writing a story, particularly details unimportant to the reader. I used [this page](http://www.travelmath.com/flying-time/from/New+York,+NY/to/San+Francisco,+CA) to calculate flight times to San Francisco and Brussels under various speeds (Mach 4, Mach 2, commercial speed, etc.).

**Companion Pieces**

I may write a few companion pieces to show a few scenes from Howard’s perspective (okay, I just really want to write a scene where Thor lectures him on LGBT rights), and one from Steve’s. Would anyone be interested in reading companion pieces if I did write them? If there’s enough interest (like, 2 or more people want it), I’ll put it on my priority list for NaNoWriMo. Let me know in the comments!

**Easter Eggs**

Bonus Points if you can find where the Doctor (from Doctor Who) is mentioned, but not by name.

Double Bonus Points if you can find the Professor X reference! :D

**Thanks Due**

Thank you to the moderators of the Marvel Big Bang Challenge, [shinysilver](http://shinysilver.livejournal.com/) and [somehowunbroken](http://somehowunbroken.livejournal.com/). This was my first Big Bang Challenge, my first time writing a 50K+ word fic, and they really created a supportive community and writing environment.

Thank you to everyone on metavengers who responded to my post about Howard Stark. I had just finished the rough draft and had a serious moment of crisis where I considered deleting the whole thing and backing out of the challenge. The thoughtful replies I received convinced me to keep going with the fic, so thank you so so much! <3

Thank you to my lovely beta readers, [d_violetta](http://d-violetta.livejournal.com/) and [melpemone](http://melpemone.livejournal.com/) (who helped smooth out the first chapter), for reading this behemoth and offering critical feedback. Beta readers are the unsung heroes of fic writing and this fic would not look as good or flow as well as it does without either of you!

Thank you to my best and oldest friend, R, for helping me come up with a title for this. I don’t know what I would have done without you!


	16. After the Credits

“Yo Bruce! What’s cookin’?” Tony asked upon entering Bruce’s lab late at night.

“Uh, not much if this doesn’t work, just...” Bruce gestured to the test tube set-ups around him, some of which were green. Ah. More to do with the Hulk.

“The fight earlier today, you—I mean Hulk-you—were incredible. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that the Hulk seemed entirely cognizant of what he was doing at all times.”

“Oh. Really? Huh.” Bruce tried to feign innocence but he was a pretty terrible liar, all things considered.

“What are you hiding from me, Big Guy?” Tony cocked his head and picked up a test tube just to mess with Bruce.

“Hey!” he cried predictably, deftly plucking the tube out of Tony’s hand. Tony fixed him with a hard stare and a raised eyebrow. Bruce sighed, relenting. “Okay, okay. When Howard was here...”

“Aha! I knew you two were up to something. Don’t think I didn’t notice you and Dad sneaking off to the lab. Go on.”

“He said he knew a little bit about Erskine’s serum, and a lot about how it interacted with the vita-ray machine he built. By comparing the differences in the process, the gamma rays versus the vita-rays, we were able to pull something together that would give me more control over the Hulk’s... mental faculties. It’s not perfect and it’s not permanent, yet. Um, I’ve been taking it in pill form daily for a while now, but it means I don’t have to be afraid of the Hulk, of myself, anymore.”

“Hey! That’s... that’s great, Bruce!” It _was_ great news. Tony knew the burden that being the Hulk put on his friend.

“I… I have control now. When I’m the Hulk, I know which strangers are enemies and which ones are friends. It’s not just raw animal instinct anymore. I can choose what to do about it. It’s... it’s a big relief, actually.” He smiled widely, and Tony found himself grinning too, grateful that Howard had helped his best friend with a demon that had been plaguing him for quite some time.

“I think this calls for a celebration!” Tony announced. “You stay here, I’ll get the champagne.”

As he left to retrieve a bottle from the kitchen, Tony looked up. With a smile on his face, he whispered to no-one in sight, “Thanks, Dad.”

_Fin._


End file.
